


0.5 cm

by bucketfulloffandom, naktoms



Series: secret agent au [1]
Category: Daenamhyup | DNH, Just Music Entertainment, Monsta X (Band), No.MERCY (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Explicit Language, Gun Violence, M/M, Mild Gore, Psychological Trauma, Suspense, Violence, a lot of people die, lots of little cameos, the knife of betrayal is bitter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2016-01-22
Packaged: 2018-05-10 01:54:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 41,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5564491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bucketfulloffandom/pseuds/bucketfulloffandom, https://archiveofourown.org/users/naktoms/pseuds/naktoms
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liberty Organization, fighting for the greater good of South Korea. Blu Corp, fighting for the South Korean government's top opposition. Gunhee, caught in the middle.<br/>(When everything goes well, you feel invincible. When everything goes wrong... a different story indeed.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. betelgeuse

**Author's Note:**

> WHAT IS UP MY HOMIES  
> cindy (bucketfulloffandom) and i have been working on this since september and we're taking forever to actually finish it so i asked cindy if i could post the first part. and she said yes. so hail satan here this is  
> SO ANYWAY this is our literal child we have spent many many hours talking about this and writing about this and crying about this so i really hope it turned out okay!! in this first part there's some awkward flow that i cldnt fix while keeping the original meaning, so it's just. there. yep  
> from cindy: "666 hail satan i'm dying. i'm dying. that's all i have to say"
> 
> kudos + comments are appreciated!! i hope you enjoy!!!

Gunhee doesn’t want to get up.

It’s like this every morning, really, but this morning in particular. Everything aches, from his head to his toes, and his alarm blaring the latest APink song is doing nothing to help.

He reaches over to snatch his phone off the nightstand, turning the alarm off and sitting up. He sees that he has a small collection of text messages already, so he rubs his eyes as hard as he can to clear the bleariness and opens his message center.

The first is from Yoosu, reminding Gunhee that they need more donuts for the break room at HQ. Gunhee knows that he doesn’t need to get them, because either Yoosu will have bought them himself or Kwangji would have. The second is from Kwangji himself, sent only a couple minutes ago, asking a simple _you up yet?_ There’s a couple others from friends outside work and his mom, from last night after he went to bed, but none from who he hoped to see.

That being Jooheon, of course. It’s potentially more important that Jooheon be awake than Gunhee himself, because Gunhee is only a surveillance agent; Jooheon is Gunhee’s field operative, responsible for carrying out plans and providing the manpower and smooth-talking necessary for most of the missions that he and Gunhee are given. They have a mission today, in fact, which is why Gunhee is up an entire two hours earlier than his usual 7 AM wake-up time.

Gunhee finds the air in his bedroom to be far too cold for his half-clothed body and quickly pulls on a shirt and some pants. He doesn’t need to dress well, because all he does is sit in a chair, listen to Jooheon through his headset, and watch surveillance cameras in the area if possible. He looks at his faded band t-shirt and decides that Hyungwon will definitely yell at him for not dressing better.

Truth be told, he needed to have already been at HQ by now. A lot goes into missions, even though the purpose of this one is to pull some information from a foreign diplomat’s wife about some very sensitive documents that the South Korean government needs their hands on. This is merely a stepping stone towards their goal of having the documents in their possession, a measure taken to ensure that nobody gets suspicious too quickly. Going to a secondary source is a lot easier than trying to weasel it out of a tight-lipped official.

And anyway, they’re not the only ones on this mission. Yoosu and Minkyun will be joining them, Minkyun setting his desk up closer to Gunhee’s for ease of communication. For all Gunhee worries about Jooheon, Minkyun worries about Yoosu at least thirty thousand times more. Gunhee’s honestly concerned for Minkyun’s health at this point.

Gunhee texts Jooheon as he leaves, shoving his feet into his shoes and double checking that he has everything he needs as he walks. He first types, _joo are you awake?_ , then backspaces it and replaces it with _get the fuck up you shithead_. It sounds better, and Gunhee smiles as he puts his phone away and locks the door behind him.

  
  


Gunhee is pretty sure at this point that Kwangji is too good for them all. He’s at HQ when Gunhee arrives, already setting up for the mission, even though he’s not even part of it—hell, Minkyun isn’t even here yet, and he usually shows up on mission days pretty early, if only so he has more time to fuss over Yoosu before the field operatives head out.

“Hey,” Gunhee says in greeting as he makes his way over to his desk. Kwangji flashes him a broad smile. “You’re here early.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Kwangji says nonchalantly. “Figured you’d might want some help before everything starts. It’s been awhile since you and Jooheon did a mission, huh?”

Gunhee nods, worrying at his lower lip. “Two months. It’s been quiet around here lately. Not as many missions—I think Jooheon would really flip if he didn’t get to go out on the field soon.” He’s about to say more, maybe something about how he didn’t really mind the relative peace himself, but Minkyun bursts in at just that moment, blurting, “Is Yoosu here yet?” almost before they even process his arrival.

“Hello to you too, Minkyun,” Kwangji, ever calm, laughs. “No, Yoosu is not here yet. We do have your desks almost set up, though. Do you want to finish that first before he gets here?”

Minkyun blinks at him, seeming a little out of it, then his lips part in a silent _oh_ and he says, “Y-Yeah, sure."

It doesn't take long before they're all set up for the day, and Yoosu and Jooheon show up not long after. By then, their director, Siyoung, has emerged from wherever he seems to hibernate until he's needed (his office is the obvious place, but Minhyuk always insists he hides in a filing cabinet in the basement) to brief them one last time. Siyoung, not being the kind of formal strict boss the movies show, addresses them with a mug of either coffee or alcohol (or possibly both, who knows) in his hand, sitting on a table. They go over what they know about the diplomat and his wife, what they need to ask and what not to ask, what to do if things somehow go awry, and a few other technical things, then they're dismissed.

Gunhee's putting on his headset to make sure it's working when there's a touch on his shoulder, startling him; it's Jooheon, grinning crookedly at him, dimples showing and eyes slits. "You ready for this?" he asks. His voice is still slightly hoarse, having woken up less than an hour ago, but the energy Gunhee feels coming off him tells him he's raring to go. "I sure as hell am—just wish this was something a little more _exciting_ , you know what I mean?"

"Yeah, I know what you mean, who do you think I am?" Gunhee high-fives him, holding onto his hand for a second with a tight grip and shaking it like he always does as he adds, "Just hope your skills haven't worn off after two months of disuse."

Jooheon scoffs. "Like that would happen."

Gunhee shrugs and says, "That's what you think." Jooheon just claps his hand onto Gunhee's shoulder momentarily and gives him a sarcastic little salute.

"We'll see, won't we?" he says, then strides away across the room. The door to the garage closes loudly, leaving Gunhee alone. He shakes his head, unable to stop a smile. Typical Jooheon.

Minkyun comes back in a few minutes later and sits down at his desk, sniffling, but Gunhee ignores it mostly. It's nothing new, Minkyun getting emotional when he sees his partner out, after all. Their headsets buzz with static, indicating that their partners' hidden mics are on. Gunhee exchanges a glance with Minkyun and nods at him. This is their zone, their time, their game. Gunhee looks at his computer screen, at the slowly blinking dot indicating Jooheon's location (it's moving along a highway, as he and Yoosu are in the van taking them to the hotel the diplomat and his wife are staying at), and smiles to himself. This is _his_ game.

  
  


A few hours later, Gunhee is significantly less enthusiastic about this being his game. Missions they get directly from, or near-directly from, the government, tend to become mind-numbingly _boring_ after no more than an hour or so. He's pretty sure Minkyun's fallen asleep, as Yoosu is just sitting in the van while Jooheon is inside doing all the talking. Gunhee himself is close to dozing off too, because all he hears in his headset is foreign languages and toneless translators' voices forming polite conversation and Jooheon's steady breathing interrupted every once in a while by him saying something somehow even politer. _God_ this is taking forever.

Kwangji drops by to ask how they're doing and to shake Minkyun awake, though of course he doesn't blame Minkyun for anything. "Tiring, isn't it," he says sympathetically. Minkyun just whines.

Hyungwon and Wonho, partners with most of the day off (sans the usual paperwork), come by too, mostly so Hyungwon can, as predicted, yell at Gunhee about his "terrible lack of appreciation for the art of clothing coordination" before Wonho whispers something in his ear and drags him off, probably to some unused bathroom in the corner of HQ to do whatever the hell they do whenever they vanish off somewhere. Gunhee tries not to think about that.

Finally, _finally_ , they get the info they need, and another few hours later Jooheon manages to neatly extract himself from the negotiations. Gunhee knows even without cameras that he's safely in the van and ready to go by the steady stream of curses he lets loose, finally free to say whatever the hell he wants to say after hours of being painfully polite and proper. Yoosu laughs, loud enough for Gunhee to hear clearly through Jooheon's mic. He can see Minkyun next to him flushing faintly red, but the implication behind that is a whole topic he doesn't want to get into any time soon.

"Nice work, shithead," Gunhee says into his mic. Jooheon scoffs in response.

"I know," is the airy reply. "Thanks, asshole."

The dots indicating the field operatives on screen start moving as the van does. Gunhee grins. "No problem, Joo. No problem at all."

 

The instant the field operatives arrive, Jooheon announces a mighty need for a donut and Yoosu announces a mighty need for a bottle of scotch. While the latter is hard to provide, the former is in the break room at all times. Gunhee tosses his headset aside in favor of following Jooheon to the break room.

“Holy shit,” Jooheon says the instant he has his hands on a plain glazed donut, shoving half of it into his mouth at once. “Gunhee, you don’t know how fucking painful that was.”

“Not firsthand, but I got the gist of it.” Gunhee replies, taking a donut of his own to eat, albeit at a much slower pace. “Almost two hours of hearing nothing but you talking in polite, even tones might have been even more painful than that woman’s laugh.”

Jooheon makes an exaggerated face of extreme anguish, waving his donut around in a grand motion. “That fucking woman’s laugh! Holy shit, I wanted to die after the second time she laughed. I seriously never want to talk to people like that ever again.”

Gunhee grins, chewing thoughtfully for a moment before swallowing and taking a deep breath. “I’m glad everything went alright, though,” he says quietly, feeling a swell of emotion in his chest. “I’m glad you and Yoosu were safe.”

“Aw, Gunhee,” Jooheon says, endeared. “It was just a little dinner party, nothing could really go wrong.”

“A lot could go wrong!” Gunhee argues, taking another bite of his donut. “Someone could have died in multiple ways. Every mission is dangerous, every step we take outside of this HQ, outside of _our own homes_ put us in danger.”

Jooheon doesn’t argue his point further, choosing to stay quiet and let Gunhee eat his donut in peace. Gunhee stews for a moment about Jooheon’s apparent disregard before sighing and letting it go.

They do this on the daily, really, or at least every time Jooheon goes on a mission. Send off, come back, chat, fight about something, silent commiserating, repeat. It’s routine, at this point, as much as brushing teeth in the morning is.

And, so is the soft, “Sorry,” that slips from Jooheon’s lips, and the soft look that Gunhee shoots him. Routine.

They exit the break room, glaze still sticky on their fingers. As they walk past the back row of desks closest to the break room, they hear a, “Guys, guys, come here.”

It comes from Minhyuk, resident gossip. Gunhee concedes, walking over to Minhyuk’s desk and leaning over his shoulder, Jooheon in turn leaning over Gunhee’s. “What’s up?”

“Okay, so check this out.” Minhyuk whispers in a conspiratorial tone, pointing across the office room to where Seokwon and Yoonho are seated at Kwangji’s desk. Seokwon is sitting in a chair beside Kwangji and Yoonho, on the desk. “Look, alright. You can see, Kwangji is talking about something, yes?”

“Uh, yeah?” Jooheon supplies when Minhyuk urges for an answer.

“Yeah, see. You know how boring his stories can get, blah, blah, whatever. But here’s what’s important: the full attention given.” Minhyuk grabs Gunhee’s wrist, holding tight to it. “Look, see how Seokwon leans in to hear him better when the chatter around them gets louder. Look at the look on Yoonho’s face.”

“We can’t see his face from here, though,” Gunhee whispers, and Minhyuk tightens his hold on Gunhee’s wrist, fingernails digging in.

“That doesn’t matter, okay, I just know.” Minhyuk says.

Just in time to break up their conspiracy fest, Minhyuk’s desk mate, Kihyun, comes over to stand beside them. “What are you guys doing?” Kihyun asks, and while Gunhee already saw him coming, it scares Minhyuk and Jooheon both.

“We’re _observing_ ,” Minhyuk says, going back to gazing across the room at the trio of chattering hens. “Nothing you have any interest in doing, that’s for sure.”

Kihyun looks almost offended, bristling, and Gunhee takes that as their cue to go so that Kihyun and Minhyuk can squabble like a married couple.

“Come on,” Gunhee whispers to Jooheon, and Jooheon nods, following Gunhee away from Minhyuk’s desk while Minhyuk’s attention is on Kihyun. “We have to go meet with Siyoung, anyway. He was busy earlier.”

“Ah, yes. Debriefing. The most wonderful part of the day.” Jooheon replies with affected sarcasm. Gunhee laughs.

Siyoung’s office is just up the stairs, and Gunhee makes sure to peek through the frosted window as best he can before knocking. Sometimes Siyoung’s long-time boyfriend Hunchul stops by, and things can get pretty… steamy.

Thankfully, this time, there’s nobody in the office but Siyoung, sitting behind his desk and looking at his phone. Gunhee knocks before opening the door, so Siyoung knows they’re there. Siyoung, however, does not put away his phone.

“‘Sup, boss,” Jooheon says, flopping down into one of the chairs in front of the desk. Gunhee sits in the other chair, knee pressing against Jooheon’s. Neither one of them move away.

“Oh, it’s you two.” Siyoung says, looking up at them. “I forgot you two were involved as well. Yoosu and Minkyun have already been in for their, ah, whatever the fuck this is called. Whatever.”

Typical Siyoung. Despite his cold, uncaring demeanor, things proceed smoothly, a full documentation of everything gathered from this mission underway on his computer screen.

“So in short,” Jooheon says, crossing his legs. “She didn’t know shit. Her husband opened up more than we thought he would. Found out that the shit we need isn’t under these guys’ control. So we gotta search somewhere else.”

“Mmm, yes. I never expected a diplomat to have information on foreign policy anyway, not anything more than he was told to say.” Siyoung shrugs, leaning back in his desk chair. “Whatever. We can only move forward from here, and hope we can get our hands on it before Shithead Central does.”

Shithead Central being Blu Corp, an organization of people that do pretty much the same thing as Siyoung and his company (named the Liberty Organization), except for the entirely wrong reasons. They’ve lost agents to Blu Corp’s nasty tricks and even nastier employees, all working for the top opposition to the South Korean government’s interests.

Gunhee curls his nose at the mention of them, and Siyoung nods. “Yep. Well, it’s whatever for now. You two are dismissed.”

Gunhee and Jooheon rise, bowing out of what little formal respect they still have for their director. They exit the room and descend the stairs, Gunhee pausing when Jooheon clears his throat.

“So, I know we’re both dying to get home and just totally pass out. But,” Jooheon hops down a couple steps to stand beside Gunhee, “do you want to go out for dinner?”

Gunhee raises an eyebrow, and Jooheon mimics him. “I guess,” Gunhee says, once it becomes apparent that Jooheon isn’t going to offer anymore insight. “But, is this a-”

“Nope, not a date, shut your mouth.” Jooheon says quickly, that sort of underlying sense of _just kidding_ remaining intact. Gunhee wonders how much of it is kidding at this point.

  
  
  
  


The next morning, Gunhee is greeted at the door as he walks into the main room by a disgustingly cheery, smiley Minhyuk and an equally disgustingly cheery, "Good moooorning! Guess what?"

"What," Gunhee grumbles, trying to walk past him to get to his desk. Minhyuk smoothly blocks his way, still grinning. "It's too early for this, man, can you please not."

"No, but this is _important_ ," Minhyuk chirps. "You have a special assignment today, it's really really really _important_." The way he's stressing the word makes Gunhee narrow his eyes at him, suspicious.

"What is it, Minhyuk, just tell me already," he says flatly. (Seriously, it's way too early for this, especially after getting home so late last night—usually Minhyuk waits at least an hour before starting on all his usual nonsense.)

Minhyuk's smile is starting to become slightly blinding. " _You_ , my friend, get to show our new friend how to do your job! All day!!" He gestures animatedly to the person Gunhee is just now noticing seated at the desk closest to them, adding, "He's our new recruit, they just moved him in here, isn't he cute? His name's Changkyun, he's kinda quiet, but isn't he _adorable_?"

Gunhee lets his gaze rake over this Changkyun; he looks extremely nervous and mildly terrified, which is not an out-of-place combination of emotions around here. He looks relatively young, and his eyes when they meet Gunhee's are wide and anxious.  

"Changkyun?" Gunhee says, trying the name out. The kid jerks and nods, shooting to his feet at the sound of his name. Gunhee steps forward and extends a hand. The kid's taller than him, god dammit, but he seems to shrink away from Gunhee. "I'm Gunhee. Nice to meet you. Ignore Minhyuk, by the way, he's always like that."

Changkyun shakes his hand hesitantly, looking anywhere but Gunhee's face. Minhyuk clicks his tongue and shoots Gunhee a last obnoxious smile before bouncing off to his own desk. Gunhee rolls his eyes.

"I guess I'm showing you around," Gunhee says, turning his attention to Changkyun. "Which might take some time because there's a shit ton of stuff to explain. Sorry, man." He peers at the boy, eyebrows raised. "How'd you end up here, anyways?"

Changkyun, looking at the floor now, mumbles, "Pulled from an internship with the government. Family friend who knows about all this recommended it." Gunhee has to strain to hear, but whistles when he does.

"I see," he says slowly. "So you didn't really want to do this?"

It takes Changkyun longer to respond this time, but eventually he says, "Not really, no. I think my dad expected something out of me, though, so I don't think he minds." He bites his lip, head bowed and shoulders tense.

Sensing they're heading into sensitive territory, Gunhee backtracks and quips, "Well, anyways, Changkyun, we have lots to do, so I guess we can get started now. I'll show you the break room, first. We can grab a donut before we really get into the important shit."

  
  


They're done, surprisingly, by mid-day, with only a few interruptions. Those interruptions, _un_ surprisingly, being things like Yoonho and Seokwon flooding the bathrooms, Hyungwon lecturing Gunhee on acceptable outfits to wear to work, and Kwangji pulling them aside to fuss over Changkyun like a mother hen (albeit in a much less off-putting way than Minhyuk). When the impromptu tour is over, Gunhee leaves a slightly bewildered Yoosu to keep an eye on a still terrified-looking Changkyun and hastily excuses himself to the break room, breathing a huge sigh once he's out of sight.

He sits on the table next to the box of donuts—powdered sugar, chocolate, and plain glazed, today—and gulps down tiny paper cup after tiny paper cup worth of water, relieving the dryness in his throat from talking so much to an almost completely unresponsive Changkyun. He's on his seventh cup when Jooheon swaggers in.

"You look ridiculous," is the first thing Gunhee says. "Stop walking like that, you're not going to impress anyone."

"Gee, thanks," Jooheon says, waving his hand near his face as if he's brushing hair out of his eyes, though it doesn't quite achieve the effect he's looking for, since his hair is short-cropped and nowhere near in his face. He sits down next to Gunhee, kicking his feet idly.

Gunhee smiles, sarcastically pleasant, at him. "But of course, my dear partner. I'm just telling the truth." He grabs a donut, not bothering to look at what kind it is, and takes a bite. Jooheon laughs at his expression when sugar spills all over the front of his shirt and doesn't even bother passing him a napkin. " _Ass_."

"I didn't do anything." Jooheon raises his hands defensively, amusement dancing across his lips.

"That's exactly the point," Gunhee mutters as he tries his best to brush powdered sugar off of him. "Jesus fucking Christ, is this permanent marker or sugar, why isn't this coming off?" He just hopes no one else walks in because this is kind of embarrassing and Jooheon is doing absolutely nothing to help and-

Of course, as soon as he thinks that, the door opens and Yoonho and Seokwon walk in. Gunhee admits defeat and just buries his face in his hands with a groan while Jooheon starts laughing again.

Fuck him and his stupid laugh. (That's his best friend, he doesn't know what he'd do without him and his stupid laugh.) Seriously.

  
  
  


It's nearing 9 PM when a yell of, "Hyunwoo's calling!!" splits the quiet buzz, coming from Minhyuk. Gunhee, like everyone else, hurries over to the back of the room where Minhyuk and Kihyun's desks are, and joins the others already crowding around them, having to go on tiptoe see over Yoosu's head and Seokwon's shoulder. Kihyun has his laptop on top of a pile of paperwork, the screen filled with a familiar face. It seems like everyone is suddenly pushing to be visible in the laptop's webcam, shouting, "Hyunwoo, hi!" and "Can you see me?"

Hyunwoo is their overseas agent, usually working abroad pretty much on his own, communicating with foreign organizations and checking in with HQ only every few days. It's rare that he has the time to video call, so whenever he does, the whole team gathers around to say hello, like they are now. Hyunwoo's eyes crinkle in a smile as Kihyun monotones, "They're just as bad as they always are, aren't they?"

"Hey, guys," Hyunwoo says, waving. Several hands wave back, and Gunhee has to duck to avoid being hit in the face by Seokwon's elbow as the younger shifts to see the screen better. "How are you all?"

"We're doing good," Kwangji tells him. His smile is warm and fond, one arm slung around Yoonho's shoulders. "We have a new member of the family, too, actually." Hyunwoo's eyebrows raise in surprise. "Where is he? Changkyun?" Kwangji cranes his neck back to scan over the heads of the others, then calls, "Changkyun, come here, meet Hyunwoo!"

Gunhee tunes out of the conversation a little as Kwangji starts introducing Hyunwoo to Changkyun, who looks like he wants to be anywhere but here. Jooheon meets Gunhee's gaze from the other side of the semicircle they’ve formed around the laptop and grins at him, mouthing something Gunhee thinks might be, _Should we bail?_

 _No,_ Gunhee mouths back. _Don’t be rude_. Jooheon snickers.

“Have you guys eaten?” Hyunwoo asks, then, scratching at the back of his neck. Kwangji shakes his head in reply. “It’s getting late for you over there, isn’t it?”

“Not that late,” Yoonho chirps. “It’s only, like-" He glances at his watch. "Like, 8:49. Siyoung called his boyfriend to bring us pizza, too.”

Hyunwoo laughs softly. “Always relying on Mr. Jung, when do you think he’ll get sick of it?”

“Well it _works_ ,” Minhyuk squawks. “And he doesn’t care as long as he gets to see Siyoung while he’s here, you should see how they look at each other, it’s worse than Hyungwon and Wonho, I tell you-”

Kihyun puts a finger to Minhyuk’s lips and says, “Shut up,” without even looking at him; Minhyuk does stop talking, but only because Hyungwon is about to strangle him. Hyunwoo doesn’t react much beyond another smile and a slight shake of his head.

It’s nothing new.

Gunhee is about to bring it upon himself to ask how Hyunwoo’s work has been when suddenly the video call cuts off and the screen freezes, then goes blue, white text scrawling across it.

That's new.

Everyone stiffens in surprise. Around the room, all the other monitors do the same thing, and then the beeping starts.

It’s the alert that’s supposed to go off if the systems get screwed up, and, well, Gunhee thinks to himself as the others scatter and Yoonho goes running to get Siyoung, _at least we know that works._

  
  


“Look, look,” Siyoung says, tapping the screen of one of the monitors with his fingernail. “Blu Corp.”

Everyone close to him leans in for a better look, and, sure enough, the words “BLU CORP” with their compass logo begins scrolling across. Previously, it was just a standard error message, something about mainframes.

“Did nobody notice this?” Siyoung asks, addressing the room at large. He doesn’t seem mad, rather frustrated, just like the rest of them.

There’s a general chatter of _no, we didn’t_ , and Siyoung flops down in a nearby desk chair, rolling down the aisle of desks. “God al-fucking-mighty. Okay, I’ve got questions. First of all, how the fuck did one of Shithead Central bust through our proxies and firewall? Second of all, how long is this going to take to fix? ‘Cause we can’t do _shit_ until this is fixed.”

There’s a sort of tentative silence, like everyone’s afraid to speak when Siyoung is so worked up. Seokwon is the first to speak. “Well, for your first question, I really have no clue. We’re behind like, four trustworthy proxies at the least, and we always use secure connections for all our stuff.”

“So it had to be from one of us,” Yoonho supplies, and the room grows silent.

Seokwon nods, continuing. “Yeah. Someone from inside. Or at least someone that was able to break into our HQ, like at night or something. I don’t know. But, moving on! We should be able to get it fixed within a week.”

Siyoung sighs, leaning back in his chair. “Jesus Christ. I don’t know how this fucking happened, but,” he pauses to stand, stretching, “I feel the need for a strong drink. Does anyone else feel the need for a strong drink?” Silence. “No? Okay.”

Siyoung disappears without another word, leaving the others present standing in near shock, revelation settling into their bones.

Gunhee can’t help but cast a look around, gaze pausing on each of his coworkers, his friends, people he’s known for years now. The possibility that any one of them could be working for their long-time enemies… it’s near unthinkable.

Gunhee’s eyes land on Jooheon. Of course it’s not him, _but_. Gunhee motions for Jooheon to come over once Jooheon looks his way, and Jooheon complies, stepping around desks and where more technologically-inclined people are hunched over said desks, trying to crack the lock on their systems.

Gunhee ushers for Jooheon to follow him once he’s close enough, walking towards the stairwell where there’s a hallway, empty and where some of the interns smoke on their breaks (and where some of them get a little freaky). Gunhee checks to make sure all’s clear, then takes a deep breath. “Okay, okay, I’m not accusing you of _anything_ , but please- you have to tell me it wasn’t you.”

“I swear,” Jooheon says, regular joking demeanor put aside for now. “I- really, I fucking swear, I did not do this. You didn’t either, right?” he adds after a moment’s pause.

Gunhee shakes his head, and feels almost a little tearful. “No, no way. It feels like things are falling apart. I know it’s just this one thing, but-”

“One’s enough,” Jooheon supplies, and Gunhee nods. “I… Come on, dude, bring it in.” Jooheon holds out his arms, and Gunhee would’ve liked to jokingly refuse, but really, it’s what he needs.

So he takes the couple of steps across the hallway and lets Jooheon wrap his arms around him, resting his head on Jooheon’s shoulder. “I’m scared,” Gunhee whispers, and he almost hopes Jooheon hasn’t heard.

The quiet reply comes. “I am too.”

  
  


“Tada!” Seokwon yells loudly, gesturing to Kihyun’s laptop, where the problem began. It’s displaying Kihyun’s desktop, a concept photo for some girl group, and once he realizes Kihyun quickly slams it shut.

“Nice work. What was it, exactly?” Siyoung asks, pushing his way through the gathering of anxious workers.

“Some sort of virus. It was one of the classic CryptoLockers, except… y’know, worse.” Seokwon shrugs, raking his hands through his hair. “Blu Corp has some of the best programmers in the country working for them, and they truly showed it with this. It took Yoonho and I entire nights of no sleep just to work through the locks they put on our servers, let alone on our internal archives and software. It doesn’t seem like anything was taken or destroyed, but I can’t be sure.”

“Guess we’ll find out,” Siyoung says casually. “I’m just glad you got it fixed. Really, thank you. From the sounds of it, every single one of you tech people deserve a damn raise.” Seokwon and others of aforementioned tech people perk up at that, and Siyoung laughs. “Okay, yeah, maybe I’ll consider it.”

Siyoung poofs off after that, as he’s wont to do, leaving the rest to sort through their own computers and files to double check that everything is alright, Gunhee included. Jooheon pulls up a chair to sit beside him as he does so, laying his head on Gunhee’s shoulder.

“I didn’t know you had that pic as your desktop,” Jooheon says once Gunhee has typed in his password, displaying a picture of Jooheon and Gunhee from when they were still in high school, all bright smiles and sunburnt skin standing on the beach.

“Yeah, I never got a better picture of us so it’s been like that since I started working here.” Gunhee says, feeling somewhat shy. He double clicks his documents shortcut, scrolling through mission logs and recent surveillance footage, on the hunt for anything out of place or missing.

“All this shit,” Jooheon remarks under his breath. “I don’t see how you can keep up with it all, my brain would be fried after one day.”

“Well, I’ve been doing it for almost four years. You learn.” Gunhee says, then reaches over to pat Jooheon’s knee endearingly. “You just keep being pretty and talking smooth, and your job will be done.”

Jooheon laughs, breath puffing against Gunhee’s neck. “You don’t have to worry about that, man.”

Time passes peacefully, Gunhee skimming text files for changes or deletion, when suddenly Minhyuk comes over and slams his hands down on Gunhee’s desk, causing both Gunhee and Jooheon to jump.

“What the fuck,” Gunhee says, looking up at Minhyuk.

“What are you two doing?” Minhyuk asks, eyebrows raising. Gunhee’s heart settles; he thought for a moment that it might have been _serious_.

“I’m slowly draining his life force,” Jooheon supplies, taking one of Gunhee’s hands in his. “He is mine. Go find your own sustenance.”

Minhyuk’s mouth falls open and Gunhee can see it, that moment where Minhyuk latches onto it. Then he grins and sprints away, leaving Gunhee to groan and pull his hand from Jooheon’s grasp.

“Why did you do that,” Gunhee asks flatly, closing his eyes. “Now everyone in this room is going to think we’re dating.”

Jooheon shrugs, settling back into his former position of being snuggled up against Gunhee. “Seemed like the thing to do, I dunno. Do you not want them to think we’re dating?”

A loaded question. Gunhee mentally squirms, but physically just continues scrolling through rows and rows of text. “Just throw in a couple more _bro_ s than usual,” he says eventually, grinning.

“Alright, got it _bro_.”

  
  


Three days later and Gunhee is arriving at HQ at 3 AM, asleep on his feet until Kwangji shoves a cup of coffee into his hands and urges him to try to wake up.

"Jooheon will be heading out at 4. You'll be on the cameras before then, though, so. Rise and shine in there." He knocks a knuckle against Gunhee's forehead, laughing softly when Gunhee flinches away with a grumble.

"I got three hours of sleep," he says— _says_ , definitely not complains. "This is bullshit."

" _Important_ bullshit," Kwangji corrects him. "We need to know if Blu Corp is planning anything."

"By risking people to snoop around their tech base at 4 AM," Gunhee deadpans. Kwangji just shrugs.

They know Blu Corp has a small location separate from their main headquarters specifically for their techies and the data they handle, and it's this location that Jooheon, Yoosu, and Wonho are being sent to today to slip into and scout for information they could use. This kind of mission is (thankfully) extremely rare, and would usually take weeks of planning, but everyone's on edge—they're going ahead as soon as possible, with only the bare minimum of info they need to hopefully avoid trouble. They don't even have full camera access - just a few cameras in the hallways and around the perimeter of the buildings - and that's something that's usually insisted upon. Seokwon and Yoonho will be with the crew back at HQ, too, to help with the technicalities that are sure to arise. It's just a good thing this location isn't nearly as secured as Blu Corp's main headquarters.

Siyoung is there, suddenly, clapping a hand over Gunhee's shoulder. “You ready for this?” he asks. “It’s gonna be a long next few hours.”

Gunhee collapses into his desk chair, taking a long drink from the cup Kwangji had given him and sighing loudly. Siyoung gives him a sympathetic look. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

It’s another ten or so minutes before Jooheon comes in, his short-cropped hair somehow still managing to stick out every which way, squinting at the monitors as he walks over to Gunhee’s desk. “It’s way too fucking early,” he says, leaning over the back of Gunhee’s chair and folding his arms on Gunhee’s head. “I’m going to fall asleep in the middle of Shithead Central, watch me.”

“No, you’re not,” Gunhee replies easily. He offers his coffee to Jooheon, who takes it and gulps down several mouthfuls at once. “Just have the rest, if you want.”

“Really? Thanks, bro.” Jooheon immediately downs the remainder of the cup. “Okay, I won’t fall asleep in the middle of Shithead Central. I’ll find somewhere to sleep where I won’t get caught first.”

Gunhee rolls his eyes. “ _No_ , you’re not. You’re going to be wide-awake the whole time because if you aren’t you’re going to get found and shot at, and that is the last thing we need right now.”

Jooheon snickers. “True. Very true.”

  
  


Minkyun is crying, as usual, as they see the field operatives off. Yoosu awkwardly pats his shoulder with a murmur of, “Dude, I’ll be fine, you don’t need to cry,” before whisking off out of the room. Hyungwon, on the other hand, barely gives Wonho much more than a glance and a cursory, “Come back in one piece, alright?” to which Wonho responds, “Of course, love,” the endearment sarcastic, tossed over his shoulder as he follows Yoosu out. Gunhee catches Jooheon’s hand and grips it for a second, like always, looking him straight in the eye.

“See you in a while,” Gunhee says as casually as he can, trying not to let the anxiety he’s feeling show. “Be careful out there, man.”

Jooheon grins as he replies, “I’m always careful.” Gunhee snorts. “What? I am!” Jooheon says indignantly.

“Shut up, Joo.” Gunhee pushes him lightly, turning to sit back down in his seat. Jooheon sticks his tongue out at him, acting for all the world like a little kid, not a secret agent with the training to kill a man. Gunhee forgets that sometimes. “Really, though, you should get going. You’re keeping the others waiting.”

“They won’t die,” Jooheon retorts, but he’s moving away even as he says that. He pauses, his lingering gaze on Gunhee searching, prickling on Gunhee’s skin, then he cracks a smile before turning away, and says, “Wish me luck, man.”

“Good luck,” Gunhee calls after him. Jooheon raises a hand in farewell without looking back, then the door shuts behind him. Gunhee bites his lip, eyebrows furrowing, and stares at the door for a good few moments, until Hyungwon coughing pointedly brings his attention to the job at hand. Hyungwon glances at him from the desk next to his with raised eyebrows. Gunhee just shakes his head. He really doesn’t need nor want to get into this now. Save it for after their people come back, he thinks. Then maybe they’ll discuss whatever it is there seems to be between Jooheon and him.

If there is anything. Gunhee’s not entirely sure.

  
  


“Someone coming down the west hall,” Hyungwon’s voice warns from Gunhee’s left. “Looks like he’s going into one of the rooms there, though, so you’re good.”

It’s been like this for the past hour or so, nothing more than the occasional “go this way” or “don’t go down that corridor”, with a few close calls here and there. Nothing especially of note. Minkyun’s finally stopped shaking, at least.

“Be careful, Joo,” Gunhee hisses into his mic. Onscreen, he sees Jooheon peering around a corner down a hall they don’t have camera access to. “We don’t have a cam for that area, try to stay out.” Jooheon seems to ignore him, instead going around the corner out of sight. "Jooheon!"

Minkyun and Hyungwon glance at him; they're watching their own partners, who are in a different area, close by but not in sight. A quick look at the other camera feeds shows Gunhee that Yoosu is slipping into a storage room or something, while Wonho stands guard by the door. Gunhee grits his teeth, eyes boring holes into his monitor.

"Joo-fucking-heon," he hisses. "Get your ass back into camera view."

"Why should I?" comes the reply. Jooheon's voice is barely more than a breath, less than a whisper. "I can look out for my own ass."

"Get back where I can see you," Gunhee says through his teeth. "You're being stupid."

Jooheon doesn't reply.

" _Jooheon_ , I swear to fucking god," Gunhee starts. "Stop being a-"

"People with guns coming down north corridor, straight towards where you guys are!" Minkyun yelps, at the same time Hyungwon shouts for Wonho to get going. "Oh my god, get out of there _now!"_

Gunhee's heart jumps in his chest. He switches over to one of the other cameras and sees what the other two are talking about. The armed people heading down one of the corridors are walking with intent, like they know what they're looking for. He knows instantly that somehow Blu Corp knew they'd be here, and that means two things.

One, someone had told them, or they had managed to get their hands on their plans. Two—the more immediately important part—Wonho, Yoosu, and Jooheon need to get out. Now.

"Jooheon, your cover's been blown, you have to find an exit fucking _now_. I mean it," Gunhee growls. Jooheon still doesn't say a word. "Are you listening to me, Joo?"

"Take a right there, left there, and there should be an exit to your left," Hyungwon says, voice soft but urgent, to his partner. "Make sure Yoosu stays with you."

"Just—just follow Wonho," Minkyun all but wails. "And please get out of there fast!"

If Gunhee was there, he'd be strangling Jooheon right now. "Go back to the hallway with the camera I can fucking see you with and I can give you directions to get the fuck out," he says, barely managing to not scream at Jooheon. "If you hurry up you can catch up with Yoosu and Wonho, they're already on their way out."

Finally, _finally_ , Jooheon replies. "Fucking fine." He sounds annoyed, as if Gunhee was just being a nuisance, not trying to make sure he gets out alive. "I could have found something, but fine." He reappears in the camera feed, a grainy figure at the end of the hall, and Gunhee can't help but let out a small sigh of relief.

That relief, though, is quickly shattered by Hyungwon's exclamation of, "Those people with the guns are right around the corner for Joo, you better hurry the fuck up!"

"Jesus Christ," Gunhee mutters. Alarm is rising quickly in his chest, even as he says, "Okay, Jooheon, you better fucking _run._ Right turn, two doors down and a left turn, out on the left. Go, go, _go!_ "

Jooheon does run, just barely turning down the next corridor before the Blu agents show up at the beginning of the one he was in just a moment ago. Gunhee realizes he's clenching his fist around his armrest, leaving marks on the poor thing.

"They're waiting by the exit," Minkyun says quietly to Gunhee. "Yoosu and Wonho, I mean. They're waiting for Jooheon."

Gunhee swallows dryly. "Let's just hope that doesn't cause their-"

A gunshot cuts him off. All three of them jump, then a heartbeat after start talking into their headsets, asking what's happening. Minkyun looks more terrified than if he was actually in Yoosu's position, though he does seem to become the slightest bit less scared out of his mind when Yoosu confirms that he's alright. Hyungwon's expression, on the other hand, is unreadable.

"Jooheon, are they shooting at you?" Gunhee asks almost frantically.

"No—fucking—shit," Jooheon says between heavy breaths. "Where's the fucking exit?"

"Turn left there—yes, there—look, there's Yoosu and Wonho, now go, the van's coming right up for you guys, the perimeter is clear." Gunhee's voice almost fails him, and he has to stop to take several deep breaths while the field agents rush out of the building. Their van is, indeed, driving through a gate that had (so, so luckily) been left open, straight towards them. God bless their designated drivers.

Gunhee thinks for a second that they're clear, that they'll make it into the car and be able to get away unscathed, but he should have known better than to think that. Yoosu is yanking the van door open and scrambling inside, Wonho right behind him, but Jooheon _trips_ , stumbles and falls, and in that instant the sound of a gun going off rips through Gunhee's headset and Jooheon cries out.

 _Oh my god,_ is all that comes to Gunhee's mind. _Oh my fucking god._

"Oh, _no,_ " Minkyun whimpers. "Oh, no, no, _no._ "

"Get him into the car!!" Hyungwon shrieks. "Fucking—just get him in there and get out!"

Gunhee's brain seems to grind to a halt. The camera switches to the one in the van as it takes off, and there's a clear view of Yoosu sitting in the back, forehead shining with sweat, Wonho in one of the middle seats, and being supported by him, head lolling and limbs limp, Jooheon.

There's a dark red patch growing on Jooheon's chest, almost impossible to see in the bad lighting of the interior of the car paired with the camera's low quality. But the way Wonho is cursing, clear as day through Jooheon's mic and in Gunhee's earpiece, and the motionlessness of Jooheon himself makes it obvious what's happened.

Gunhee's starting to feel faint. He turns his head slightly, and sees Minkyun's eyes welling up with tears. He looks back at the screen. Jooheon's shirt, he realizes, is soaked with what can only be blood. Wonho shifts, and Jooheon's arm falls lifelessly to his side.

Gunhee really does faint, this time.

 

Gunhee wakes up and all he sees is a white ceiling.

It takes a few beats for him to realize he’s on a couch, covered with a thin blanket, and that this is definitely not anywhere he remembers being before.

He sees someone walk past in a white coat, pager going off at their hip, and it hits him that he’s in a hospital waiting room.

“Ah, Gunhee,” someone says from above him, and Gunhee cranes his neck to see that it’s Kwangji. “How are you feeling?”

“I-” Gunhee pauses to take inventory, mind thinking back to what happened.

 _Jooheon_.

“Oh my god,” Gunhee says loudly, sitting up. Kwangji looks alarmed, holding his hands up almost as if ready to block an attack. “Jooheon, where is Jooheon? Is he okay? Oh my god, oh my god…”

“Calm down,” Kwangji says, gentle, and Gunhee notices that other people in the waiting room are staring at him. “He’s… well, I can’t say he’s fine. He’s alive.”

“Oh my god,” Gunhee repeats, putting his hands over his face. “Oh my god, holy shit.”

“He got lucky,” someone chimes in, and Gunhee looks to see that it’s Hyungwon. It’s apparently them, and he spies Siyoung sitting a couple chairs away, asleep with his head resting on the window pane. Gunhee figures the others must have went home already. “The doctor said that the bullet was only a couple centimeters shy of going straight through. It missed his lung by… what was it?”

“0.5 centimeters,” Kwangji supplies. Gunhee sucks in a breath. “It ultimately hurt nothing. They’re keeping him sedated because of pain and risk of stress.”

“And I deserve a thanks, by the way,” Hyungwon says, looking up from his phone. “I carried your ass here.”

Gunhee doesn’t respond, instead putting his hands over his face again, pressing his fingertips against his closed eyes. Jooheon is alive. He’s alive, he didn’t get himself killed, Gunhee didn’t have to deal with losing him.

He’s really trying to keep himself from crying but he fails. He’s so relieved, more than he thinks he could ever explain.

Kwangji puts an arm around him and pulls him over. Gunhee lets him, falling against Kwangji’s side and trying to keep himself from wailing.

 

This is the fifth time Gunhee has been asked if he’s really okay.

“Yes,” he almost snaps, and he doesn’t miss the somewhat hurt expression on Kwangji’s face. “God, sorry,” Gunhee says, dragging a hand down his face. “I’m just… you know.”

“Yeah, I know.” Kwangji says, taking Gunhee by the hand. “Come on.”

Gunhee lets himself be lead down the hall. The doctor on call came to inform them that they’d deemed Jooheon stable enough to move to a private room on the floor above, so that is where they are now. Gunhee decides that hospitals are kind of creepy at night, nobody around but the nurses sitting at their station to greet them with half-hearted smiles and the patients either asleep or knocked out.

“501,” Kwangji mutters to himself, and Gunhee figures it’s probably the room number. “Ah, here we are.”

Gunhee braces himself, eyes first falling on the nurse changing out the IV bag. She smiles at them kindly.

“Hello,” she says, “my name is Dasom, I’m Mr. Lee’s nurse for the night. He’s still out, and will be for quite a while longer, but you’re welcome to sit. I can get another chair, if you need.”

“Ah, no, it’s fine.” Kwangji replies, because Gunhee can’t.

No, Gunhee’s eyes are now locked on Jooheon’s face, quiet and peaceful, chest falling and rising steadily. He sees thick layers of tape peeking out from under Jooheon’s gown, and he feels tears prick at his eyes again.

Dasom must notice the quiver in his lip, because once she’s finished hooking the new IV bag up properly, she hurries quickly out of the room.

“Do you want me to leave?” Kwangji asks quietly. Gunhee thinks for a moment, then nods. If he’s going to sob disgustingly, he’d rather not do it where Kwangji could see.

Kwangji shuffles out of the room with a pat to Gunhee’s shoulder, leaving Gunhee standing at the foot of the bed.

Gunhee takes a deep breath to steel his nerves, walking to pull the chair sitting along the wall closer to the bed. He sits down, only hesitating a couple seconds before taking Jooheon’s hand in his.

“You’re so fucking stupid,” Gunhee whispers, trying to keep from crying. “You’re so fucking stupid.” He drops his head down to rest against the bed, squeezing Jooheon’s hand. “If you had just fucking listened to me, this wouldn’t have happened.”

His eyes are terribly watery. He knows Jooheon would be telling him to suck it up and stop crying. Or he’d be arguing with Gunhee that it was for the good of the mission. That is their job, after all; many times, agents have died just for the sake of intel, sacrificing themselves to further their organization’s interests.

Gunhee guesses he’s just wishing Jooheon wouldn’t have tried to do the same. Somewhere, he wishes that Jooheon would have had some grand thoughts about coming back to Gunhee in one piece, not with a hole through his fucking chest.

Tears escape, soaking the rough cover that’s draped across Jooheon’s legs. He wishes Jooheon was awake just so he could hold Gunhee’s hand back, curl his fingers around Gunhee’s and tell him that everything is okay.

Gunhee heaves a sob, a wrenching sound that almost scares him. He has to pull himself together, he resolves, because he doesn’t want to do that again. That’s embarrassing, even if Jooheon didn’t hear it.

He laughs sadly once he thinks about Jooheon making a face of disgust and telling him never to make a goddamn noise like that again. He pulls in a shuddering breath, sitting upright and looking at Jooheon once again.

Gunhee’s heart aches. He had promised himself to work through his messy feelings once Jooheon got back, but if he did it now he’d just be talking to a sleeping man. Maybe that would be best.

Gunhee takes a deep breath, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. He whispers it, first, almost scared. “I like you.”

Then, again, at normal volume. “I like you a lot, I love you, I’m pissed off that you risked yourself like that even when you- you probably already fucking know how much I love you, you still did that.” Gunhee sniffs loudly, wiping tears away before they fall. “I’ve liked you since high school, since we joined Liberty, even more since we became partners and I had to watch out for your ass constantly.

“It’s… it’s so scary, Jooheon, whenever you go out and I have to watch you through shit quality cameras. I just… every time, I want to just, fucking grab you and tell you how much I love you because I’m fucking scared you won’t come back and now look what happened.” Gunhee takes a deep breath, dragging his hand down his face. “You’re such a fucking asshole.”

The room is almost too quiet without the mumbled rush of Gunhee’s words, heart monitor beeping softly. Gunhee says it again, almost for self confirmation. “I love you, Lee Jooheon.”

 

Kwangji takes Gunhee home despite Gunhee’s protests that he wants to stay the night, because, “We still have work to do tomorrow, Gunhee, and I’m not having you grumpy while we do it.”

Gunhee flops face down in bed, not bothering to change into pajamas or even strip down. Exhaustion is seeping into his bones and he knows it’s got to be nearing 2 AM. He’s been up far too long to be dealing with all of this.

So he curls up in bed and sleeps.

 

Kwangji’s aforementioned work is obviously just the regular mission details, but Gunhee is far too distracted to type up a proper sounding report. He has the format planned out in his head, but every time he reaches “Agent Lee was wounded”, his fingers stall on the keys.

“If you want,” comes Hyungwon’s voice from behind Gunhee, making him jump, “I can finish it for you. I don’t mind, I already finished mine.”

Gunhee sighs, scrubbing at his face with his hands. “I’m sorry, I’m just so fucking tired. I feel like shit.”

“I do too, but we’ve all got stuff to do. Email it to me.” Hyungwon says, patting the top of Gunhee’s head like a patronizing mother. Despite the stab of annoyance, Gunhee knows that Hyungwon is right, and he can’t let this get in the way of his duties.

And also despite that, he does let it get in the way. He ends up sitting at the table in the break room with his face buried in his arms, somewhere between sleeping and not. Gunhee really doesn’t know what to do- he thought confessing, even though Jooheon couldn’t hear him, would relieve some of his tension and anxiety. Instead, it just settles a bitter feeling deep into his chest.

He’s past crying, now. He’s just tired.

Gunhee returns to his work, eventually, only to see that Hyungwon had apparently stopped by his desk and typed up the rest of his report. Gunhee looks across the room to where Hyungwon is chatting with Wonho, catching Hyungwon’s eye. He manages a smile that he hopes is taken as grateful and Hyungwon just nods, looking up at Wonho when Wonho prods his shoulder.

Once Gunhee sits down and goes about posting it to the internal archives, he notices a note typed at the very bottom of the report.

_There’s nothing wrong with being sad about it, Gunhee._

Gunhee bites his lip, squashing down a wave of emotion. He doesn’t want to cry at work, he just wants to do what little is left of his job in peace.

People pass condolences to him all day and it makes him angry because Jooheon isn’t dead, he’s just injured. Then it occurs to him that maybe they’re anticipating Jooheon retiring early because of it.

Gunhee would be fine with that. That way, Jooheon would be safe, and also easier to keep an eye on. But he also knows that Jooheon is far too stubborn to give up just like that, after only four years out on the field.

Gunhee hates it.

  
  


It’s the fourth day since the mission—the fourth day Jooheon’s been in Room 501, deathly still but for the slow rise and fall of his chest, but Gunhee doesn’t let himself think of that. The others are probably getting tired of him moping around all day at HQ, but honestly, he can’t bring himself to care.

This morning, he finds himself at his computer with his hand frozen on the mouse, staring at the picture on his desktop. His teenage self smiles back at him with an arm around teenage Jooheon’s shoulder, the sun a bright white flare and the sea behind them dotted with white reflections of the light. Gunhee’s vision blurs for what seems like the thousandth time in the past few days, but the tears don’t come. It’s like his whole body is just too empty for him to even cry. At least, then, it doesn’t draw as much attention, or use up all the tissues in HQ like Minkyun’s incessant sniffling has been.

Someone comes up behind him and touches a gentle hand to his shoulder. “Gunhee,” a deep voice says. Kwangji, of course. “Gunhee, I talked to Siyoung, and he agrees with me about what I said earlier. You should just take some time off. Changkyun can cover any little things in your place.”

Gunhee blinks at him, trying to get his mind to process the words being spoken to him and just barely succeeding. “Oh,” he says. Kwangji exhales heavily through his nose and nudges him out of his seat.

“Take a break, Gunhee. You need it.” Kwangji’s expression is almost painfully kind and understanding. It makes Gunhee feel like he should be touched, but he doesn’t have the energy to be. That’s how it’s been recently.

So Gunhee does take a break. He doesn’t go home, because he’s not used to being home before 10 PM, not used to seeing the sun through his bedroom window. Of course, he’s not used to the quiet of Jooheon not being around either, but the low buzz of HQ is still preferable to the silence that he’d be surrounded by at home.

Sitting in the break room again for hours wasn’t really planned, but nothing has been the past four days, so it’s nothing new. What _is_ new is Minkyun stumbling in crying with Yoosu on his tail, the latter brokenly trying to calm Minkyun down.They barely seem to notice Gunhee, and Gunhee for the most part pays them no mind. He catches snippets of Minkyun sobbing, “I’m sorry, I’m just _scared_ , I don’t know,” and Yoosu saying, “Okay, okay, ‘kyun, it’s alright, just- oh my god,” but after a few minutes of incoherent back-and-forth the two of them walk back out again. Just a blip in the otherwise eventless timeline of the past few days.

Gunhee’s not sure what time it is, but at some point Hyungwon comes in to tell him that he’s on break, and if he’d like he can drive him over to the hospital to visit Jooheon. Gunhee lurches to his feet instantly, a gasping _yes_ tumbling out of his mouth before he can stop himself. Hyungwon gives him a knowing smile.

The car ride to the hospital is short but excruciating. Hyungwon tells Gunhee to stop fidgeting at least five times within the few minutes, and Gunhee mumbles an apology each time even though he knows Hyungwon doesn’t _really_ mind.

Gunhee barely registers speaking to the receptionist, or walking through the white halls, but he’s in Room 501 again and Jooheon is there, so still Gunhee would be scared if it weren't for the steady beep of the heart monitor. Hyungwon leaves him be, quietly slipping out of the room once Gunhee's attention is locked on Jooheon.

"Please wake up soon," Gunhee says as he sits down in the chair drawn up next to the bed. His eyes drift to the IV stand by the head of the bed. "Just—please wake up. Some time before Siyoung starts hinting I might as well hand in my resignation now."

He doesn't expect a response, of course, but it still causes a dull ache in his chest when there's not a single change, not a flutter of Jooheon's lashes or break in his even breathing. "You know, you scared Minkyun half to death too. He hasn't stopped walking around sniffling since, well, you know." Gunhee cracks a shaky smile. "I can't tell if Yoosu's sick of it or worried, his expression looks the same either way."

He ends up just talking, relaying the things he's seen happening around HQ lately; he tells Jooheon about Kihyun and Minhyuk's latest argument, the newest mod Seokwon installed into all the computers, Siyoung's boyfriend Hunchul's visit the other day. When he runs out of things to say, he takes Jooheon's hand in his and traces the spirals of his fingerprints and the lines of his palm, whispering, "I like you, I love you, you piece of shit, I fucking love you."

His words, as expected, go unheard.

  
  


It's the sixth day since the mission, and Gunhee is contemplating the ease with which Changkyun takes over the little jobs Gunhee usually would do, watching him type away at his desk (set up near experienced Yoonho’s in case he has questions), when Minhyuk bursts into the main room yelling, “You guys! You _guys!!_ ”

“What,” someone—Hyungwon, from the sound of it—yells over his monitor.

Minhyuk looks around the room, wide-eyed, until he spots Gunhee. His eyes look like he’s just outrun a stampede, and Gunhee’s starting to wonder if something’s wrong when Minhyuk finally speaks again. “ _Jooheon’s awake_.”

Gunhee is on his feet in a heartbeat, the world blurring before his eyes. _Jooheon is awake. Jooheon is fucking awake._

Kwangji’s hand on his shoulder steadies him. “Let’s go see him, then.”

  
  


It might be because of the sight of the five or so that came, but the doctor tells them before they go in to “please keep it down” because there are other patients on this floor and the walls aren’t all that thick. Minhyuk makes an affronted noise that’s quickly shushed by Kwangji and Kihyun both, but Gunhee barely notices it. The door is ajar, and he can see Jooheon through the doorway, and his eyes are _open_.

"Gun-" Hyungwon starts, but Gunhee is rushing into the room before anyone can say anything. "Never mind."

Jooheon, sitting propped up by a mound of pillows, looks pale, frighteningly pale, but there's the slightest color in his cheeks that wasn't there before. Gunhee comes to a halt by the bed, his legs shaking, staring at Jooheon, and Jooheon, for the first time in what seems like eternity, stares back. His lips twitch into a tiny smile, and Gunhee feels the floodgates open up.

" _Jooheon_ ," he chokes. Tears fill his eyes quickly. His knees feel like they're going to give out any second. " _Jooheon_." It's all he can manage, now that Jooheon is awake to hear him. "Jooheon, Jooheon, Jooheon, I..."

"Stop wasting my name," Jooheon says, and his voice is hoarse from disuse, but it's still _his_ voice, his voice that Gunhee knows like the back of his hand.

" _Joo_." He reaches, not sure what he's looking for, and Jooheon's hand meets his. Their fingers tangle together, the action familiar, and now Gunhee really is crying.

Jooheon makes a face at him. "Bro, stop, you look gross. You're gross, man, stop." He glances past Gunhee at the others in the doorway and whispers, "Not in front of the others, who are you?"

Gunhee coughs a shuddery laugh and mumbles something like an apology, blinking back the rest of his tears. Jooheon's hand tightens around his momentarily. The others come in, then, expressions ranging from fond to mock-agitated, words ranging from "Glad you're back with us" (that's Kwangji, of course) to "About fucking time" (Minhyuk). Jooheon grins at them all.

"Sorry for scaring you guys," he says. It's directed to all of them, but his eyes keep coming back to Gunhee. "And, you know, almost ruining the mission."

" _That's_ your concern?" Hyungwon snorts. "I don't think you have your priorities straight. You could have _died_ , you know."

Jooheon doesn't respond, just focuses on where his and Gunhee's hands are still intertwined. Sensing that maybe they need some time alone, Kwangji says, "Well, we'll leave you to, uh, catch up. Take your time." He ushers the others out, and Gunhee shoots him a grateful smile. Then, the door closes and it's just the two of them, and suddenly Gunhee doesn't know what to say.

Obviously, there’s a lot he _could_ say, like repeating every word of his confession from six days ago when Jooheon can hear it. However, Jooheon is the first to speak.

“Come on, pull up a chair. Stay a while.” Jooheon says with a smile, eyes crinkling up. It’s enough to bring tears to Gunhee’s eyes, but he won’t admit that he’s spent the past few days looking at pictures of Jooheon and hoping he’d be able to see that smile again.

Gunhee does as instructed, sitting on the same side of the bed that he did the first time. “I, uh… I don’t really know what to say,” Gunhee says quietly, eyes trained on Jooheon’s face.

“Me either, man. God, I’m really sorry.” Jooheon drags a hand down his face, and Gunhee sees fading bruises on his knuckles, scrapes on the side of his hand. When Gunhee remembers what they’re from (remembers seeing Jooheon falling and--) tears well up in his eyes again. “I probably fucked everything up. Definitely been holding up work, right?”

Gunhee’s momentary sadness is replaced with a stab of anger. “Why the fuck is that all you’re concerned about?” He asks, trying to keep his voice even so that he doesn’t disturb the other patients. “There’s more than just fucking work, do I- do I not mean anything to you?” Gunhee’s voice cracks embarrassingly on the last syllables, and he bites the inside of his top lip. This was a mistake.

Jooheon looks something close to shocked, then his eyebrows furrow. “Of course you mean something to me, dipshit. Do you fucking forget that we’re supposed to place our jobs ahead of our lives? Ahead of everything that we have going for us? We’ve been told that time and time again and yet you can still sit here and just--” Jooheon makes a vague gesture towards Gunhee, voice rising in volume.

“We’ve known each other for far longer than just Liberty,” Gunhee almost snaps back, wiping his eyes roughly with his free hand. His other hand is still holding tight to Jooheon’s. “I thought that maybe that would be enough to make you give a shit about something other than the integrity of a mission, how successful or unsuccessful it was.”

Jooheon opens his mouth to speak, but Gunhee keeps going. “You’re such a fucking asshole, Jooheon! I can’t even say that you’re selfish because you’re not, that’s the _fucking problem_ , you don’t give a shit about yourself or me in the end-”

“Would you shut the fuck up and listen to me for a moment?” Jooheon is close to yelling, and Gunhee is almost startled, and also a little regretful because he really shouldn’t have Jooheon so worked up when he’s still healing. But _still_. Gunhee stays quiet. “I did this because of you, Gunhee, I- I fucking joined Liberty with you because that’s what you wanted to do, and I didn’t want- I didn’t want us to be separated, I wanted… God, I wanted to follow you wherever you went.”

The words hit Gunhee like a bag of bricks. It’s not like it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility, but Gunhee always thought that Jooheon had enough passion to have been working off his own motivations. This time around, Gunhee lets the tears fall.

“Why would you think I don’t give a shit about you, then?” Jooheon asks, and he sounds tired, now. Gunhee feels so bad. At least, until one of Jooheon’s classic grins spreads across his face, letting Gunhee know that he’s about to drop an awful joke. “You know how little of a shit I have to give in the first place? There’s like, two of them, that’s how many I have to give, and I give them both to you.”

“Nice to know you’re dropping turds in my lap,” Gunhee responds almost without thinking. There’s a moment of silence, then Jooheon snickers, busting out into laughter a short time later. Gunhee follows close behind, and it feels so good to laugh, especially with Jooheon.

“Ah, hurts.” Jooheon says suddenly, putting his free hand over his bandaged wound. Gunhee frowns. “But, no, seriously. You’re- god, Gunhee, you’re basically my whole world at this point. You have been since- since high school, and this is fucking embarrassing and cheesy and I want to stop talking.”

Gunhee laughs through his nose, closing his other hand around their still-clasped hands. “Do you know how scared I was?” Gunhee asks quietly, looking at their hands and not at Jooheon. “I was terrified. I- I just couldn’t stop crying, they even told me to take time off work because I was just… ugh.”

“Well, you can stop crying now,” Jooheon says, sounding a little awkward. “I- I promise I’ll never do that again. I’ll listen to you like I’m supposed to.”

Gunhee lets all his sarcastic quips die on his tongue and nods, tears welling up again. Jooheon sighs, like he’s terribly burdened, and motions for Gunhee to come closer.

“Come on, dude, bring it in.” Jooheon says, and Gunhee does so, moving to sit on the edge of the bed instead. “I think… I think I had dreams about you,” Jooheon says quietly while Gunhee settles in beside him, resting his head on Jooheon’s shoulder. “I don’t know if it was, like… me barely registering your visits or what the fuck, but it was pretty cool.”

Gunhee makes a hum of acknowledgement, inhaling deeply. He’s used to smelling Jooheon’s cologne, but now only industrial detergent and cheap shampoo reaches his nose. It’s unpleasant. “When are they sending you home?”

“Nurse says at least four days conscious before they’ll even consider it. Gotta make sure I’m not gonna like, randomly die or something, you know.”

“Oh yes, random death, the plague of the nations.”

Jooheon grins, putting his arm around Gunhee and holding him close. “I missed you, man. I mean, I was asleep the whole time, but I really missed you.”

Gunhee nods, closing his eyes. “I missed you too.” And, he doesn’t say it, but: _I love you so much._

 

Another week and Jooheon is released with a stack of papers extensively outlining wound care and what he can and cannot do.

“Aw man, look Gunhee,” Jooheon says, showing Gunhee the second paper in the manual with a finger pointing to what he’s referring to. “Sex is not recommended. What sort of bullshit.”

“You’re still a goddamn virgin,” Gunhee replies, pushing the paper away. The nurse currently responsible for wheeling Jooheon to the patient pick-up chuckles.

“Nuh-uh!” Jooheon says indignantly, laying his papers in his lap. “I got laid in high school, do you not remember?”

“Touching a titty doesn’t count as getting laid, Joo,” Gunhee points out. Jooheon frowns, looking like a child about to throw a fit.

“Sorry to interrupt,” the nurse cuts in quietly, “but do you have everything arranged?”

“Yes,” Gunhee and Jooheon answer at the same time, and they exchange a knowing look and grin. “Our friend Kwangji is coming to pick us up, and Jooheon will be staying with me until he’s fully healed.”

The nurse nods, smiling. “Great to hear. Mr. Lee, do you understand everything in the book?”

Jooheon glances down at the papers in his lap, then shrugs. “I dunno, I guess I don’t really have to, since it’s gonna be Gunhee doing everything. But I’ll read over it later, I kind of just wanna go to sleep.”

“You can do that in the car.” Gunhee says, patting the top of Jooheon’s head as they come to a stop outside the sliding doors. “Ah, there he is,” Gunhee says, waving at Kwangji’s approaching car to grab his attention. Kwangji pulls up to the curb and waves.

“Now, change the dressing as soon as you’re home,” the nurse instructs, coming to stand beside Jooheon so she can help him up. “Follow all the directions in the book and the guidelines for what to do and what not to do. Don’t be scared to call your doctor, or call up here, if you have any questions or concerns.”

Jooheon nods, taking first the nurse’s hand, then reaching for Gunhee’s. They lift him out of his wheelchair together and help him shuffle to the car.

Once everything is all settled and and they’re at Gunhee’s apartment with lots of kind words and gentle motherly fusses from Kwangji, Jooheon sits down on the couch and says, “So, how close was I to biting the dust?”

Gunhee takes the papers from Jooheon to read through recommended care instructions. “0.5 centimeters to the left of your lung. Passed between ribs and almost went all the way through. Nothing broken, nothing ruptured, just tissue damage.”

Jooheon makes an awed noise. “Nice. Cool shit. Thanks for the pants, by the way.”

Gunhee rolls his eyes, walking towards his bathroom to gather supplies. Thankfully, he’s prepared for injuries that tend to arise, which also means he has way too many rolls of bandages, packages of gauze, and antibiotic supplies.

“Though,” Jooheon yells so Gunhee can still hear him, “I think I might look better in these jeans than you. Sorry!”

Gunhee laughs to himself, coming back with medical supplies cradled in his arms and sitting on the couch beside Jooheon. “Shut your mouth, my ass looks just as good in those jeans. Face me and strip the shirt.”

“Ooo, so demanding.” Jooheon says, grinning as he does as he’s told. “I like that in a man.”

“You’re embarrassing,” Gunhee complains, but he can’t help the flush that reaches his cheeks.

From years of having to treat Jooheon’s wounds, Gunhee’s gotten used to seeing him half naked in various situations. However, there’s a new development since the last time he had to do it. “Look at this,” Gunhee says, setting the things on his table and reaching down to grab the small amount of pudge that’s spilling over the waistband of the jeans. “Chub!”

Jooheon looks down and gasps, slapping Gunhee’s hand away. “That is not chub!” Jooheon yells, putting his hands over his stomach protectively. “It’s- It’s your stupid jeans, they’re too tight! Bullshit!”

“Okay, fine, but I do know where there _is_ chub!” Gunhee’s hands go to Jooheon’s cheeks, pinching at them, and Jooheon yells in anguish.

“No, leave my chub alone! My chub is fine!”

“It is, it really is.” Gunhee agrees, tone turning serious because he figures he’ll have more time to tease Jooheon later. “It’s cute.”

Jooheon turns pouty, looking off to the side. “I’m not cute. I’m hot.”

“Sure.” Gunhee says, patting the top of his head, then setting about peeling the bandages back carefully. He’s not sure if he’s ready to look at it, but…

There it is, and Gunhee can’t help but make a disgusted noise. It was left open, pink flesh forming in the hole and some serious redness and swelling around it. Gunhee maintains his face of minor revulsion as he looks back to the list of things to do.

“Is it that bad?” Jooheon asks, craning his head to look. “Oh, Jesus.”

“Yeah, it’s fucking gross. But, I’m such a good friend that I’m going to touch all up on it. I need to go wash my hands and it wants me to wash the wound, so give me a moment.” Gunhee rises from the couch, shuffling off to the kitchen to scrub his hands thoroughly and also wet one of the clean dish towels sitting on the counter.

“Thanks, by the way,” Jooheon calls over his shoulder. “For- for everything, really. Even though I didn’t fucking listen to you, you still tried your damnedest.”

“No problem, man,” Gunhee says, and when he looks over, Jooheon is half turned with a beautiful smile on his face. It tugs at Gunhee’s heart awkwardly and he looks away, turning the tap off and wringing the towel so it’s not too wet.

As soon as Gunhee sits back down, Jooheon takes one of his hands in his and squeezes it. Gunhee smiles at him and squeezes back.

Gunhee sets about gently dabbing the damp rag over the wound and spreading antibiotic ointment over it in a thin layer, pausing when Jooheon hisses in pain and doing the same to the entry wound on his back once Jooheon gives him the go ahead.

Gunhee shoves his tumultuous feelings down until he gets to the bandaging portion of the process, hands trembling slightly as he opens a package of sterile gauze. “J-Jooheon, I- I need to tell you something.”

“Hm?” Jooheon hums pleasantly, looking at Gunhee through half lidded eyes.

“I…” _Just go for it, holy shit._ “I like you, a lot, I…” Gunhee pauses to gently press the gauze to the exit wound, securing it with enough tape to keep it there. “I love you, really, a lot.”

When he’s met with silence, he focuses on finishing his work, standing to move around and cover the entry properly, doing the same to it and then grabbing one of the bandage rolls. “Hold the end of this, please,” Gunhee says, reaching around to put the end of the bandage at Jooheon’s collarbone. Jooheon complies, pressing his fingertips to it. “Thanks.”

“How long?” Jooheon asks then, as Gunhee wraps the bandage around to the other side, situating it so that it covers the wounds evenly.

“High school,” Gunhee replies casually, as if he’s discussing the weather. “It got… I won’t say worse, but it- it was more, after we joined Liberty.” Gunhee finishes wrapping the wounds properly and tapes off the end to secure it. “Do you want one of my shirts to wear instead of the shitty hospital gown?”

“Yeah.”

Gunhee heads off to put everything away and fetch a shirt and strides back, saying, “You know what’s really gonna piss me off for the rest of our lives now?”

“Huh?” Jooheon asks as he slips the shirt over his head, pulling at the fabric until it settles nicely over him.

“The entry and exit wounds don’t line up, the exit is a little bit higher, and I’m pissed off.”

Jooheon smiles, and it eases most of Gunhee’s worries. “Me too. Hey, can I take a nap? Like, in your bed. Is that cool?”

“Go for it. You remember where the bedroom is, right?” Gunhee teases, and Jooheon sticks his tongue out at him.

“It hasn’t been that long since I’ve been over, dickhead.”

“Alright, asshat.” Gunhee says, watching as Jooheon stands and walks in the proper direction, pausing at a door. “Next one down,” Gunhee calls, and Jooheon flips him off.

Gunhee sits on the couch for a few long moments, letting the realization of what he just did sink in. Then he lets his head fall against the back of the couch and groans.

  
  


“Hey, your phone’s ringing,” Jooheon calls from the living room.

Gunhee looks up from the stove and yells back, “Who is it?”

There’s a moment of quiet, then Jooheon replies, “Well, it says ‘Asshole I’m Related To #1’, if that gives you an idea.”

“Oh.” Gunhee covers the pot he’s boiling water in and strides out of the kitchen to where Jooheon is sprawled across the couch channel-surfing, Gunhee’s phone held out in one hand and the TV remote in the other. “Yeah, I’ll take that.” Jooheon doesn’t look away from the TV screen when he hands Gunhee his phone and Gunhee slips away to his room.

Gunhee touches his finger to “Answer” and brings the phone to his ear almost reluctantly, dread already building in the pit of his stomach. It’s not that he doesn’t like his cousin, it’s just that he’s… well, they don’t always get along. A disadvantage of never talking to your extended family.

“What do you want, Mino,” Gunhee says flatly. On the other end, he hears his cousin exhale heavily through his nose before speaking.

“Why haven’t you been answering anyone’s calls? Your mom is worried sick, you know.” Gunhee almost does a double take. Mino doesn’t sound like he’s trying to lift himself above Gunhee like he usually does, doesn’t sound annoyed or antagonized; Gunhee can hardly believe this is the Song Mino he’s related to. He just sounds _tired_. Worried. Like he actually cares about Gunhee’s well-being (which is not something Gunhee’s heard from him in all their twenty-something years).

“Things came up,” Gunhee mumbles. “I was busy.” It’s more of a lie than it isn’t, unless sitting around HQ unable to do anything useful counts as being busy. It doesn’t.

Mino obviously doesn’t believe him. “So busy you couldn’t text your own mom a quick ‘I’m doing fine’ or anything. _Anything_ , dude. What have you been doing that you’re so busy with, anyways?”

This is where Gunhee has to be careful with his words. Trying to explain his job without actually saying what it is is an art he’s only improved at over the years, but it’s still a minefield, especially with Mino. Honestly, with his cousin, it does better to just lie through his teeth. He doesn't question Gunhee too much if it's obvious  he's telling blatant lies—it's when he lets slip partial truths and thought-out cover ups that Mino pursues the case. "Um. One of the people in my department, uh, fell down the stairs. I had to cover all his work for him while has was in the hospital. It was, you know, a lot of work. Tiring.”

Silence is the only reply he gets for a while, to the point where Gunhee checks to make sure the call hasn’t dropped. Finally, his voice low, Mino says, “Okay, whatever, just- call your mom when you get the chance. And, hey.” Suddenly there’s emotion in his words, and he says, “Take care of yourself, Gunhee. Don't wear yourself out.” Gunhee blinks at his bedroom wall. “Talk to you another time.” With that, the call ends and Gunhee is left staring bewildered at his phone.

"So who was that?"

Gunhee jumps, startled, but it's only Jooheon, leaning on the doorframe and looking at Gunhee with raised eyebrows. Gunhee makes a vague motion with the hand holding his phone and mutters, "My cousin. He was, I don't know, checking up on me, I guess."

Jooheon nods slowly as he comes in to sit on the bed next to Gunhee. "Doesn't sound like that's a normal thing."

"It's not." Gunhee tosses his phone to another spot on the bed and leans onto Jooheon, sighing. "Remind me to text my mom later."

"Sure." Jooheon doesn't move away, but doesn't make any indication that he's going to get any more comfortable with Gunhee leaning on him either. He clears his throat, and Gunhee blinks up at him bemusedly, until he remembers his words from yesterday, the ones Jooheon never really gave a response to. His stomach drops. "So, um." Jooheon's hands fidget in his lap. Gunhee has an urge to take them in his, but decides to hold back on that. "About, well, yesterday."

"I wasn't kidding," Gunhee says quietly. His head is still on Jooheon's shoulder, and he swears he can hear Jooheon's heartbeat in his chest. "I mean, if that's what you're thinking. I really do like you. Love you." That word— _love_ —sounds strange coming out of his mouth, like he's reading a movie script instead of his own thoughts. But it's true, he's sure. If he wasn't sure before, Jooheon warm and solid next to him confirms it.

"I didn't think you were lying. You wouldn't lie about something like that," Jooheon says. "I just... I wasn't sure what to say. It was out of nowhere, you know what I mean?"

"So is this," Gunhee points out with a hint of humor in his voice. "A lot of our conversations are out of nowhere."

Jooheon laughs softly. "I'll give you that." His expression grows serious, then, and he continues, "But, really. I thought about it, even though there wasn't much to think about, and-" He breaks off, flushing crimson. Gunhee straightens up to get a better look at him, an incredulous grin forming itself on his face.

"Oh my god, you're blushing," Gunhee says teasingly. "Little Jooheon is blushing."

"You know what, shut up, never mind, I'm not going to say anything else," Jooheon huffs, batting Gunhee away with one hand. "Not if you're gonna be an ass."

"Oh, come on." Gunhee lets his voice drop when he says, "Tell me, please. I want to know."

Jooheon's eyebrows furrow, and he finally meets Gunhee's eyes again. "Okay, okay, I'm--" He takes a deep breath to steady himself, whispering, "Oh, my god." Several more moments pass, then Jooheon says, "I like you too, Gunhee. I've liked you for, god, I don't even know how long. I think my subconsciousness realized sometime a little after we joined Liberty? I don't know. I just know that I never really thought about you liking me too even if I never really thought that it _wouldn't_ happen and I just. God."

Gunhee realizes his jaw is hanging open. He quickly closes it, then gulps several times before he can find it in himself to speak words. He barely even knows what he's saying, but he breathes, "If that's the case, then..." His gaze flits down to Jooheon's pursed lips, then back up to Jooheon. "Can we—can I kiss you?"

Jooheon blinks, looking almost surprised, then nods. Gunhee realizes in the back of his mind that he's shaking, but when Jooheon tilts his head and leans in close, eyes half-shut and shoulders tense, Gunhee forgets about that.

He closes the distance, and he swears that in that moment, though it sounds cheesy as all fuck, they are eternal.


	2. rigel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The truth comes out. It hurts.  
> (This life was a _mistake_.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i said i was gonna post part 2 when the first chapter reached 200 hits. 185 is close enough right  
> happy new year i hope everyone stayed safe last night!!!!!!! allow this update to bring joy into your year.
> 
> kudos + comments are appreciated!! i hope you enjoy!!!

"I don't want to get up."

Gunhee rolls his eyes. Jooheon makes a whiney sound and burrows under the covers—Gunhee's covers, because he's been sleeping in Gunhee's bed the past week. Gunhee had originally planned to sleep on the couch, but Jooheon had insisted he didn't mind sharing. It's been an interesting few nights, now that their feelings have started to get sorted out, all "do you mind if I"s and "can I"s and awkward but familiar laughs in the middle of the night when they wake each other up with their tossing and turning (namely Jooheon's, because he's a very fidgety sleeper).

"I don't particularly want to get up either, but here I am," Gunhee says, taking hold of one end of the blankets. "And you have to get up, today's the day you get to go back to work, remember?"

" _Have_ to," Jooheon corrects, voice muffled.

"It sounds better if I say 'get to' though," Gunhee retorts. "Now _get up_." He yanks the covers off of Jooheon, who yelps indignantly. Gunhee laughs as he tries to protect himself from the early morning chill. "Put some pants on, dude."

Jooheon glares at him, but does roll out of bed, finally, albeit with quite a bit of grumbling. Gunhee can't help but smile. The one thing that Gunhee is the most glad about is that nothing much has really changed since, well, the confessions and all. They're still them; if anything, they've been getting only more comfortable with each other, something Gunhee wasn't even sure was possible. They've become tangled limbs and intertwined fingers under the covers, touching foreheads and mingling breaths. Gunhee doesn't admit it, but the intimacy that's developed in this short time is the kind of thing he's dreamt about since they joined Liberty.

"I'm gonna go start breakfast," Gunhee says, already halfway out the door. "Something quick, because we have to be at work soon. I'll get some eggs or something, that alright?"

"Just don't burn them," Jooheon replies with his shirt around his neck. Gunhee makes an affronted "as if I would" noise. "I'm just saying-"

"Whatever," Gunhee interrupts. "Hurry up, though, seriously. Even Siyoung's probably at the end of the line with me never going to work, and I don't think showing up late on our first day back would help."

Jooheon flashes him a thumbs up, a grin forming on his face. Gunhee smiles back, a swell of affection in his chest, then the moment catches up with them both and Gunhee blurts, "I'm, you know, going to go now," and slips away. He can almost still feel Jooheon's eyes on him as he walks down the hall, but honestly, it doesn't feel heavy on his skin. It never does, not anymore. It's one of the only changes, and it's a nice one.

 

“What do you mean, I’m still unfit for work?”

“Look, Gunhee, it’s a government protocol.” Siyoung says, seeming almost as irritated as Gunhee himself. “If you’re out on mental health leave, you have to wait at least a week after you claim you’re alright. I think they might want you to go to a doctor for a screening, too, but fuck that.” Siyoung takes a sip out of his ever present mug, and from the close proximity Gunhee can definitely tell there’s liquor in it. “So, just another week, alright?”

Gunhee walks down the stairs grumpy and with a pout on his face. Jooheon meets him at the stairs, smile falling away as he sees Gunhee’s stormy expression. “What’s up, man?” Jooheon asks, touching Gunhee’s arm gently.

“I can’t do fucking anything for another week,” Gunhee complains, sounding something like a whiny child. “‘Cause of government protocol to prevent meltdowns or whatever.”

“Aw, man. That’s fine though, right? ‘Cause it’s not like we’ll be doing anything for another month or so, probably.” Jooheon throws an arm around Gunhee’s shoulders, and really, how can Gunhee stay grumpy now? “Come on, we can hang around. Harrass Changkyun, maybe.”

Gunhee gets an idea. “Wait, that’s something I can do.”

“Harrass Changkyun?”

“Close. I can look through my shit! He’s been using my laptop this whole time, I have to make sure he hasn’t fucked my shit up.”

“Hell yeah!” Jooheon yells, drawing attention as they re-enter the main workroom. Gunhee sees Minhyuk looking their way about four seconds before he springs to his feet, hurrying over.

“This, what is this.” Minhyuk deadpans, picking up Jooheon’s wrist with two fingers and pulling his arm from around Gunhee.

“Minhyuk, we told you about this.” Gunhee deadpans back, and Minhyuk shakes his head vigorously.

“No, no. You told me you were together but not this, this physical intimacy…” Minhyuk’s eyes flash, and Gunhee prepares himself. “Have you, you know-”

“We have not fucked,” Jooheon says simply.

Gunhee adds, “But we’ve gotten close.”

Minhyuk’s eyes widen and he near immediately bounces off to tell the nearest person, probably poor Kihyun, or perhaps Hyungwon. Gunhee and Jooheon share a grin, Jooheon putting his arm back around Gunhee once the coast is clear.

Gunhee makes a point to slam his hands down on the desk once they get close enough, making Changkyun nearly jump out of his skin. “Hey, kiddo. You’ve been using my laptop, right?”

“U-Uh, yes, right,” Changkyun replies, voice shaking.

“Can I borrow it for a bit? I need something off it.” Gunhee says, hands already reaching for it.

Changkyun looks like he wants to protest, but after all, it’s not his computer. So Gunhee takes it anyway, unplugging it from the charger and packing it off to the break room.

“My beloved donuts,” Jooheon laments, picking up the entire dozen the instant he sees it and holding it to his chest. “Holy shit,” he says once he’s got the box open, pulling a raspberry-filled one out and looking at it like it’s Jesus. “Holy shit.”

“I want a bite,” Gunhee says, and Jooheon makes a face.

“Nuh-uh, this one’s mine. Get your own, shitbag.”

“We’re dating now, you have to give me your fucking food.”

“Says who?” Jooheon asks indignantly, purposefully biting off almost half the donut in one go. As a result, the majority of the raspberry filling comes with, and it drips down his chin and onto his shirt. “Fuck! Fuck me.”

Gunhee sighs, shaking his head like a particularly disappointed mother. “See what happens when you get greedy? Come here.”

Jooheon obliges, stepping closer, and Gunhee reaches up to scoop the filling off his shirt with his finger. “No fair, at least give it to me,” Jooheon complains, and Gunhee sighs once again, holding his finger up. Jooheon, to Gunhee’s almost surprise (but really, he’s done putting things past Jooheon at this point), sucks Gunhee’s finger into his mouth and runs his tongue along the side of it, making a face when Gunhee pulls it away. “Your finger tastes weird.”

“You’re weird,” Gunhee retaliates, wiping his finger on his pants and curling his nose up. “Gross.”

Jooheon grins, pulling one of the chairs around to sit beside Gunhee, then pulling the whole box of donuts around with him.

“And you yell at me for calling you chubby,” Gunhee says, poking at Jooheon’s side.

“I am not chubby, Gunhee, I’m- I’m. I’m fluffy.”

“Chubby,” Gunhee says, grinning, and Jooheon sticks his tongue out at him. Gunhee sets about what they came in here for, turning his attention to his laptop. He opens up his documents, first, sorting through everything that Changkyun added (paperwork, mostly, and medical reports updating Jooheon’s condition) and then looking through the rest of it to check that nothing was changed.

Everything is in good shape until it hits the personal documents, things that Gunhee’s saved because this used to be his personal computer (which means that among these documents is the entire script to Bee Movie and more than a few receipts of Jooheon saying that he biases Chorong when he tries his hardest to claim he’s a fan of Namjoo).

“Look, the last time this was modified was last week.” Gunhee says, pointing to the bottom of the screen.

“Maybe he was curious as to what the hell a document named ‘shrek’ had in it, and accidentally added a space or something?” Jooheon offers, and Gunhee shrugs, opening it anyway.

“Woah,” Gunhee says once the document loads in its entirety, finding it to not be the script of Shrek 3 but instead a huge block of code. “Can you go get Seokwon?” Gunhee asks, turning his head to Jooheon.

Jooheon nods, jumping up and exiting the room quickly. Gunhee stares at the code for a long while, searching for terms he might recognize from his short lived interest in programming.

He doesn’t get too much of a chance to break his brain before Seokwon comes in, with his ever-present add-on of Yoonho. Seokwon leans over to look at Gunhee’s laptop screen, then sits down in the chair beside him and drags the laptop over.

After a long while of looking at it, scrolling through it several times over, Seokwon looks at Yoonho and says, “Is this-?”

“Yeah, it is,” Yoonho replies, looking unusually panicked.

“What is it?” Gunhee asks, feeling unease prick at his chest.

Seokwon takes a deep breath. “The modified archive lock that was put on all of our computers some months ago. That’s what this is, it’s the code to the archive lock. It’s got a crucial part of its code missing, however, and I want to study it to see if that means something. Can I take your computer for a few hours?”

“Sure, go ahead. Don’t open bee.doc, by the way.” Gunhee says as Seokwon stands, taking the laptop with him. “It will crash the laptop.”

“I’m not going to ask, but okay.” Seokwon says, leaving the room with Yoonho on his heels.

“So, what the fuck does that mean?” Jooheon asks, sitting down in the chair Seokwon just vacated.

“I don’t know, but we probably need to tell Siyoung about it.”

 

“What the fuck does that mean?” Siyoung asks, and Gunhee sighs.

“I said the same thing!” Jooheon yells, and Siyoung, almost surprisingly, holds up his hand for a high-five. Jooheon does so, and they nearly miss each other’s hands.

“I don’t know, but it means something had to have happened. Either, a hacker, or…” Gunhee trails off, leaving it open to interpretation, even though there’s only one.

Siyoung takes a gulp of whatever’s in his mug this time, exhaling heavily. “I’m never taking on another goddamn intern ever again. But, before you guys go,” Siyoung sets his mug down, leaning back in his chair, “have either of you spoken to Kwangji today?”

Gunhee and Jooheon exchange a look, both shaking their heads. “Nope, he didn’t even send me a text this morning.” Gunhee says, looking to Siyoung again.

“Nobody can get a hold of him and I’m worried. I’m gonna send someone to go by his apartment, just to make sure he didn’t oversleep or isn’t sick or something.” Siyoung closes his eyes, and he really looks so exhausted.

“I think you needed a break more than I did, boss,” Gunhee remarks, trying to come across as teasing but sounding more concerned than he wanted to.

Siyoung flips him off and Gunhee laughs, dragging Jooheon out of the office. “Oh, but tell Changkyun I need to see him, alright?” Siyoung yells after them once they’ve got the door half closed, and Gunhee makes an affirmative noise.

Gunhee spots Changkyun talking to Minhyuk and walks up to them. Minhyuk greets him but Changkyun visibly pales, looking uncomfortable. “Hey, kid, boss wants to see you upstairs.” Gunhee says, and Changkyun swallows, nodding and muttering a thanks as he brushes past Gunhee.

“Ooo, what about?” Minhyuk asks, leaning in. Gunhee shakes his head.

“You’ll find out sooner or later-”

“It was the message!” Seokwon yells from across the room, drawing everyone’s attention.

“What?” Gunhee shouts across the room, and Seokwon gets up to hurry over.

“Look, look.” Seokwon says, handing Gunhee two sheets of paper. It seems to be print-outs of the code of the virus, one dated for today and one dated for some months ago. “This one is from what you found today, assumably from last week. And this one is from our archives. It was the Blu Corp message.”

Sure enough, once Gunhee gives it a once over, he finds that the command for the scrolling message is still there, but the contents are different.

From May, Blu Corp’s motto: _Blu Corp is here to serve the best interests of the public._

From last week: _where’s your friend?_

  
  


Hyunwoo calls later, but Kihyun is the only one to answer this time. Word gets around quickly, and news of the new message from Blu spreads through HQ like wildfire. Siyoung had sent Yoonho to Kwangji's place an hour or so ago, and he has yet to return, but some of them have already assumed the worst.

Walking out of the break room towards Jooheon's desk, Gunhee catches murmurs of Kihyun telling Hyunwoo about this development in hushed tones, snippets of "don't know where Kwangji is" and "weird code". Gunhee grimaces.

"It's like the virus incident all over again, except, I guess not as bad," Jooheon remarks when Gunhee takes a seat on a paper-free spot of his desk. "Everyone's on edge."

"Understandably," Gunhee says, eyes wandering around the room. Yoosu and Minkyun have drifted over to Kihyun's desk to say hello to Hyunwoo, and Seokwon is typing away at his computer, but Hyungwon and Wonho are nowhere to be found. Changkyun still hasn't come back downstairs, either. "What do you think's happened?"

"I don't know, but I'm pretty sure Changkyun has something to do with it," Jooheon replies as he opens yet another file of medical records. "Jesus fucking Christ, why is there so much of this bullshit, how do you _survive_?"

Gunhee laughs. "I've told you before, you get used to it if you do it every day. You're just doing this, like, once, deal with it." He crosses one leg over the other and puts his elbows on his knee, his chin in his hands. "You think Changkyun did something, too, then?" he asks, more seriously.

"Well, yeah." Jooheon's brows furrow, and Gunhee just watches him, thoughtful. They sit in silence for a few minutes, until the door to the workroom opens and Yoonho stumbles in, chest heaving like he's just run all the way to HQ.

"He's not there," is all he manages to say at first. Seokwon is by his side in an instant despite previously being on the other side of the room, a steadying hand on his shoulder, murmuring something to him. "Kwangji," Yoonho says after catching his breath. "He's not home, and there's- there's signs of a struggle. I don't- I need to tell Siyoung." He turns on his heels and is gone before anyone else can even process it, Seokwon right behind him. Gunhee looks at Jooheon, and Jooheon looks back at him.

" _Fuck_ ," Gunhee breathes.

A shudder seems to run through Jooheon. "I agree."

  
  
  


"Was his phone gone?" Siyoung asks, arms crossed as he leans back in his chair far enough for Gunhee to worry that he's going to topple over backwards. They're sitting around Yoonho's desk, all of them except Changkyun and Wonho; the kid is being watched in Siyoung's office awaiting questioning. ( _Further_ questioning, to be specific.)

"Yeah," Yoonho replies. "At least, I think so. Didn't hear it in the house when I tried calling."

Seokwon clicks his computer mouse absently as he frowns in thought. "The door was unlocked—but Kwangji always keeps his door locked. He's not stupid."

Siyoung snorts. "Shithead Central has tricks. Lots of tricks." His mug is, as always, in his hand, and he takes a long drink from it before continuing, "Pretty obvious what's happened. Blu busted into his place last night and took him by force. They must have been planning it for a while, and they're trying to scare us into doing something to benefit them. And that's not happening."

"Well, I'm- I'm kind of scared," Minkyun admits, shrinking in on himself when several of the others glance at him. "I mean- they _took_ Kwangji, in his own home, wouldn't you be worried, too?"

"They _want_ us to be frightened so they can lead us into giving them more intel," Hyungwon says to him, but Minkyun only cowers more.

Gunhee lets his own thoughts drift, as it seems like they're only going to discuss their shared hate for Blu Corp at the moment. It is a little scary, the reminder that they're not safe even at home, and, even more terrifying, the thought of what might happen to Kwangji. Kwangji is the peacekeeper around HQ, the person most of them rely on for advice or help or whatever the hell they need. It feels strangely empty and off-balance without him.

Eventually, the gathering disperses, Siyoung to his office where Changkyun is waiting and the rest of them to their desks to talk amongst themselves. Jooheon, meeting Gunhee's eyes, jerks his head in the direction of the break room before walking off that way, and Gunhee doesn't hesitate to follow.

"This fucking sucks," Jooheon says, collapsing into one of the chairs. "Absolutely sucks."

"I'm pretty sure we've all already agreed on that." Gunhee leans against the wall next to him, a hand coming to rest on Jooheon's head. "Your hair's getting longer," he comments. In all honesty, he's just trying to steer the conversation away from Kwangji, because as much as he cares, he doesn't think it'll do them good to dwell on the unknown. Besides, it is true—Jooheon's hair is getting longer. Gunhee can curl it around his fingers now, and it's a weirdly satisfying feeling.

Jooheon bats at his hand without any real intent to make Gunhee move away. "I haven't had a chance to trim it in a while, what do you expect? I was out for days, remember?"

Gunhee does have to give him that. "It's nice, though. Cute."

"For the last time, man, I'm-"

"Not cute, you're hot," Gunhee finishes for him. "Whatever. Either way, I like it."

Jooheon looks up at him suspiciously. "Why are you acting so nice all of a sudden?"

Gunhee shrugs. "We need some niceness right now. God knows we won't be getting it from Blu, after all."

  
  


“Are you _ever_ planning on going back to your own apartment?” Gunhee asks, sitting on the arm of his couch and fixing his eyes on Jooheon, lazing on the couch. They’ve got nothing to do at HQ because it’s come down to predicting Blu Corp’s next moves and figuring a way to cut losses while still getting Kwangji back, so Siyoung told the agents at large that they could go home if they wanted. Gunhee, for one, isn’t apt to stay around HQ with so many sniffly, anxious people around.

Jooheon looks up at Gunhee, arching an eyebrow. “Do you want me to leave?”

“Well, no, but the government is still paying rent on your apartment and you’re not even staying in it.” Gunhee says, sliding down the arm and onto the couch proper, nearly sitting on Jooheon’s feet.

Jooheon sits up, stretching his arms over his head before leaning against Gunhee, forehead resting on Gunhee’s shoulder. “Do you wanna know something gross?”

“Sure, why not.”

“I feel really safe here,” Jooheon says, hands going for Gunhee’s, holding them tight. “I… I have a lot to be scared of, we both do, and staying here makes it… easier.”

“Aw, Joo,” Gunhee says, endeared, putting an arm around Jooheon and pulling him closer. “I- I agree, really, I feel much better with you here. Living alone is such shit.”

Jooheon makes a noise of agreement, snuggling into Gunhee’s side. “Be real with me right now, Gunhee. Do you think joining Liberty was a good idea, in the end?”

Gunhee knows this requires some thought on his part. There are lots of ways he could answer, most of which depend on who he’s answering for. So, “A good idea for me, or you?”

“Us, I guess.”

Gunhee shakes his head. “Nah. It wasn’t worth it, I don’t think. It was a great idea in the beginning, sure, and I’m- I don’t think I’d bother leaving now, because that’s just… weakness, incompetence. But… in the long run, it wasn’t worth it.”

“It would have been had we counted on me being stupid and also tripping over the color in the fucking concrete,” Jooheon says, teasing lilt to his voice. “But, I think I agree, with everything. I’m not pulling out now, ‘cause that’s bullshit. You gave it some good words but it’s just pure bullshit.”

Gunhee nods. The silence is almost melancholy. “I think we didn’t bank on failure enough.”

“What do you mean?”

“We weren’t- we never considered that we’d do something wrong. Sure, we had some hiccups here and there in missions, but it was never anything big enough to cause any harm, physical or otherwise.” Gunhee shifts, feeling he’s treading into potentially dangerous territory. Jooheon says nothing, so he continues. “I’m not saying we didn’t realize the dangers of being Liberty agents, but I’m saying we never thought they would be relevant. All the things we read about physical and mental liability when we were going through training… we just brushed it off because we thought we were competent enough that it would never happen.”

“You know, it really just kills my pride to admit, but you’re right.” Jooheon sits up, and when Gunhee looks his way he sees the Jooheon he knew in high school, soft and vulnerable, all dashed dreams and wounded dignity. It hurts, just a bit, because what did Jooheon’s ambitions get him but a hole in his chest?

Gunhee feels like he’s going to cry, so instead he leans over and kisses Jooheon, sliding his hand along Jooheon’s arm until he finds his hand. Jooheon squeezes Gunhee’s hand tightly, tilting his head so their foreheads touch.

“Maybe we caused a mission failure,” Gunhee says, shaking Jooheon’s hand slightly, emphatic, “maybe we’re the worst agent pair Liberty has ever seen and maybe one day Siyoung is gonna kick our asses out for good. But we’ll always have each other.”

“You’re the best, you big cheesy oaf.” Jooheon replies, grinning. Gunhee kisses it off him, leaning forward until they fall backwards onto the couch. When Gunhee’s fingers creep under Jooheon’s shirt, Jooheon grabs his wrists. “Shit’s getting too steamy for the couch, my dude.”

“Ohoho, is this a proposition?” Gunhee asks, waggling his eyebrows. Jooheon releases one of his wrists to push his face away playfully.

“No, bitch, it’s a command to get the hell off me so I can give you a one-way ticket to Friskotown.”

“What the fuck did you just say to me.”

“You heard me, come on.” Jooheon sits up while Gunhee’s still hovering over him, causing Gunhee to flop into Jooheon’s lap and nearly out onto the floor. “Goddamn, clumsy ass.”

“Shut up. And anyway,” Gunhee starts as Jooheon climbs to his feet, taking Gunhee by the hand and pulling him up, “why is it _me_ being given this ticket to Friskotown? Why not you?”

“Are you shitting me, you really think I’m going to play catcher? Hell no.”

Gunhee really cannot believe they’re having this conversation. “Now, come on, Joo. I’m sure it’s a wholesome experience.”

“Uh-huh, and it’s one you will soon have.” Jooheon says, and when he looks over his shoulder at Gunhee, Gunhee sees that he’s close to cracking up.

“What the fuck are we even talking about anymore?” Gunhee says, trying to keep his face even. He fails.

“We’re talking about which one of us is gonna get a dick up the ass.”

“Ah, yes.” Gunhee closes the bedroom door with his foot once they’ve entered. “It will be you.”

“We already established this, it’s you.” Jooheon insists, though a smile is lighting up his face. “I- Really, I have no fucking clue what we’re about to do.”

“We’re going to take a trip to Friskotown, together.” Gunhee says nonchalantly, putting his hands on Jooheon’s hips and pulling him closer. “You know what?”

“Huh?”

“We sure are lucky that I jack off so much, because I bought new lube just the other day.”

That’s the final straw for Jooheon, apparently, as he bursts into giggles and hides his face behind his hands. Gunhee follows close behind, putting his arms around Jooheon’s waist so he can lean over and laugh into his shoulder.

“This is so awkward,” Gunhee laments.

“Yeah, but it’s fun. Kiss me again.”

  
  


Gunhee wakes up with Jooheon sleeping on his arm and his phone buzzing on his bedside table. He reaches blindly for it and checks the caller ID to see who is calling him at 6 AM, trying not to wake Jooheon. “Obnoxious Pretty Boy From Work #1”—Hyungwon.

“What,” Gunhee deadpans.

“Siyoung wants all of us at HQ, _now_ ,” is the only thing Hyungwon says. His voice is strained, tense and wavering. Gunhee is fully awake in an instant.

Gunhee sits up, disturbing Jooheon from his sleep. “What for? Why- what’s going on?” Gunhee questions as Jooheon grumbles, rolling over to squint and glare at him.

“What the fuck, man.” Jooheon pulls the bedsheets up to his chin and yawns. “What time is it?”

“6:01, something's happened at work, Hyungwon is trying to tell me," Gunhee replies hastily before saying into the receiver, "Okay, what the hell's happened?"

Hyungwon makes a strange noise. "Are you- is Jooheon sleeping with you? Actually, never mind, just- just get your asses here as soon as you can. Siyoung will explain." The call drops at that, before Gunhee can say anything else.

Jooheon sits up, wincing slightly. "So why the shit are we up at asscrack o'clock?"

"I don't know, fucking Hyungwon didn't tell me," Gunhee mutters. "We have to head over to HQ, though. Which means you have to put some pants on."

Jooheon groans loudly. "Not _pants_."

Gunhee just shakes his head and laughs. "Oh woe is you. Let's get going, before Siyoung has both our heads."

  
  
  


They walk in to see what looks like most of the crew sans Yoosu, Minkyun, and Changkyun huddled around Seokwon's desk, looking at something in Seokwon's lap. Once they get closer, they see it's a laptop that Gunhee recognizes as his own.

"Hey, what the fuck," he says, pushing between Hyungwon and Wonho. "That's my-"

He shuts up when he gets a good look at the screen. It's the obnoxious blue of an error screen, with a two lines of white text in the upper left hand corner.

_are you scared?_

_you should be_

Seokwon smiles dryly at Gunhee. There's dark circles under his eyes, matching Yoonho's, telltale signs that the two of them have been pulling all-nighters again. "I was checking that doc you found the virus code in again and this happened. The second line came up about five minutes ago."

Gunhee blinks. "Wait, how did you even get into my computer?"

"You know how many programs and mods I've installed on this? I know the workings of your laptop better than you do, probably." Seokwon cracks an amused grin at the insulted look on Gunhee's face, then continues, "There's only one possibility as to how this keeps happening, and that's an inside job. Siyoung wants to get us all together and discuss, both as a group and individually."

As if summoned, Siyoung appears just then, popping up over Kihyun's shoulder with his mug in-hand. Kihyun jumps, his lips forming a silent curse. Gunhee almost laughs. "Exactly what Seokwon said," Siyoung says. "We'll be having some heart-to-heart one-on-one time with yours truly. I'll call you to my office. Rest of you just... I don't know. Play Solitaire or something, I don't give a fuck."

With that, he whisks off, calling Wonho with him. Gunhee sits down on Seokwon's desk and drags a hand down his face.

"This is a mess," Yoonho says quietly, reflecting Gunhee's thoughts. "This is a mess and we're all fucked."

  
  


"Okay, Gunhee," Siyoung begins as Gunhee takes a seat, "I don't think it's you. I don't want to think it's you. You've been at Liberty almost since you were out of high school, and you've never done anything to raise suspicion."

Gunhee just nods, sensing a contradiction to follow Siyoung's first statement.

"But," Siyoung continues. Gunhee sighs inwardly. "This code business did all start on your laptop. You're out for a while—barely contacting HQ, too—and when you come back shit starts acting up again. You get that that's a little weird, right?"

"Yeah," Gunhee replies. "It's a little fucking weird. But it wasn't me, you know it wasn't. Isn't- shouldn't you be more worried about Changkyun, maybe? He was using my laptop while I was gone-"

"I know," Siyoung says, tiredly. "He's top of the list as far as suspects go, and even more so because he hasn't shown up yet. Neither have Yoosu and Minkyun, but Yoosu at least called in saying something's come up and they'll be a little late. Changkyun, on the other hand, hasn't said a word. I'll need to have a very long talk with him."

Gunhee murmurs agreement, eyes dropping to Siyoung's mug. It's chipped in a few places, whatever had been painted on it long worn off from years of use. Gunhee looks back up at Siyoung's face and finds that he seems the same; he looks worn out from years of work and countless days of trying to organize shit that only sometimes comes out worth it, tired from always juggling work and the little of his life that _isn't_ work and constantly failing to balance it out. Gunhee realizes suddenly that he almost pities him. Maybe he and Jooheon weren't the only ones for which Liberty was only worth it for a little while.

"Well, anyways," Siyoung says into the silence. "I don't really have that much to say to you. I don't think it's you, and there are other people more suspect than you, so for now you're relatively clear." Gunhee bows his head and stands up. "Don't make me regret this."

"I won't." Gunhee pauses at the door for a moment. "And, uh, I don't know if I'm in the place to say this-"

"Go ahead, I don't really care.

Gunhee has to smile at the casual disdain in Siyoung's voice. "I just... Don't tire yourself out too much. Take care of yourself, boss. For your sake and ours."

He leaves without seeing Siyoung's reaction. He hears a faint, almost disbelieving laugh, though. As if their director can't believe they care about him.

  
  


Yoosu and Minkyun show up soon enough, together, Minkyun holding one of Yoosu's hands tightly. Gunhee can practically see Minhyuk's eyes flare from across the room when he spots them. Jooheon, his chin hooked over Gunhee's shoulder as Gunhee goes through files for what feels like the hundredth time the last few days, snickers.

"What is _this_ ," Minhyuk says, rushing over to the two. "No one told me you were coming _together_ \- what is this, Yoosu, what is th-"

Kihyun comes up behind Minhyuk and elbows him hard to get him to shut up. "Siyoung will want to see you," he says flatly. "One at a time." Minkyun's eyes go wide. "Also, you haven't seen Changkyun, have you?"

Yoosu blinks as he awkwardly pries Minkyun's fingers off of his hand, his expression somewhat put-off. "I thought I saw his car in the lot. He's not here?"

"Uh, no." Kihyun frowns. "Well, whatever, one of you guys needs to go up to Siyoung's office."

Minkyun looks sideways at Yoosu, and Gunhee swears he sees tears welling up in his eyes. _Jesus Christ_ , he thinks. _When does he ever_ not _cry._

Yoosu nudges Minkyun and mumbles something. After a few heartbeats' hesitation, Minkyun reluctantly peels himself away from Yoosu's side and makes for the stairs. Yoosu's shoulders slump visibly. Gunhee wonders in the back of his mind what's happened between the two, but his attention at that moment is drawn by a yell from Yoonho's desk.

Jooheon barely exchanges a glance with Gunhee before both they're on their feet and hurrying to see what's happened. Gunhee's laptop is open next to Yoonho's desktop, still on the error screen, but with a new line of text.

_Tell your weakest link to be afraid._

There's a sharp inhale behind Gunhee. When he turns, he sees it's Yoosu, looking thoroughly concerned and—Gunhee is surprised to see—noticeably scared. He meets the eyes of the others who have quickly gathered, the muscles in his neck taut, and says, "Don't say anything to Minkyun. Please."

  
  


Time passes with the barest minimum of peace until, one day, Gunhee gets a call at 3 AM.

He doesn’t check the caller I.D., knowing the only people that could be calling him at this time of night are from work, and answers with a gruff hello.

It’s Minkyun. “Gunhee,” he sobs out, “I- I didn’t know who else to call, I- I just- it’s Kwangji, they just-” Minkyun breaks off with a mighty wail.

Gunhee sits straight up in bed, sleep shaking off quick. “Kwangji? Did you say Kwangji? What’s happened, is he there?”

“Yes, yes, he’s here, they just… dropped him off on my doorstep like a- a package. He- He even has this paper taped to his shirt, it’s wrinkled and a little ripped but it has my name and address on it and I’m scared, Gunhee, I’m scared.”

“How is he, is he hurt?” Gunhee asks sharply. He knows he has to be firm when Minkyun goes into hysterics, otherwise Minkyun will drown it out with his own crying.

“He’s fine, he’s fine, but I- I don’t… I don’t think he knows who I am, Gunhee.” Minkyun says, sounding panicked, voice high and wavering. “I keep- I keep asking him where he’s been, who took him, all that, and he- he just says he doesn’t know. He… he hasn’t asked outright, but I’m pretty sure he has no clue who I am or where he is.”

“Keep him safe, Minkyun. Bring him to HQ tomorrow. And call Siyoung, he needs to know.”

“O-Okay, okay, I’ll- I will. I will. Thank you, Gunhee.”

“No problem. Try to get some sleep, too.”

Minkyun makes a soft noise of affirmation and then hangs up. Gunhee sighs and lets his hands flop onto his lap, sinking back so he’s leaning against the headboard.

“Who was that?” Jooheon asks from beside him, voice thick with sleep.

“Minkyun,” Gunhee replies, looking down at Jooheon. “Blu dropped Kwangji off on his doorstep like a goddamn package.”

“Holy shit,” Jooheon says, rubbing at his eyes. “What- what are we gonna do?”

“I told him to keep him safe, call Siyoung, and bring Kwangji to HQ in the morning.” Gunhee lets his head knock against the headboard, sighing. “He’s not hurt, so there’s no reason to cause a bigger fuss than we need to. Minkyun… said that Kwangji seems to not recognize who he is.”

“Mm, might be trauma related. That could be bad.” Jooheon shifts to lay his head on Gunhee’s thigh. “Do you think you can go back to sleep? I’ll get up with you if you can’t.”

“Nah, you sleep. I don’t think I’ll get up, but it might be a while.” Gunhee pauses for a moment, taking in a few deep breaths. “Lots to think about.”

“I gotcha.” Jooheon stops to push Gunhee’s shorts up and kiss the inside of his thigh. “Love you, babe. Don’t stress too hard.”

Gunhee smiles, the affection welcome. “Thanks. Love you too.”

Jooheon dozes off again quickly and Gunhee runs his fingertips along Jooheon’s jawline, his skin soft beneath Gunhee’s fingers.

Gunhee tries to figure out what this means. It’s obviously a scare tactic, like Siyoung said when Kwangji first vanished. Blu Corp is always trying to scare Liberty into giving up their information, handing documents over to the entirely wrong hands, trading manpower, etcetera etcetera. None of it has worked since Siyoung was appointed director, so Blu Corp must be upping their efforts.

Gunhee wonders if it’s not trauma keeping Kwangji’s memories from him. Blu Corp has the means to erase Kwangji’s memories; medically-induced amnesia isn’t that hard to cause nowadays, especially when you’ve got the kind of money they do.

Gunhee ends up falling asleep like that, head tilted over, and wakes up the worst pain in his neck. He feels an uncomfortable tightness in his chest when he checks his phone at the kitchen table and doesn’t see a wake-up text from Kwangji, just like he has every morning while Kwangji was gone; it almost hurts more now, knowing that Kwangji may never remember that he used to send texts to every agent in the office every morning.

Gunhee doesn’t jump right into getting showered and dressed like he does all the time, taking his time with his coffee despite the fact that Jooheon’s already dressed and now using his phone camera to fiddle with his hair.

“It looks fine,” Gunhee says quietly, and Jooheon makes an affronted noise.

“No, it doesn’t, it looks like shit.” Jooheon eventually sets his phone down, groaning. “I’m really worried. About Kwangji.”

Gunhee nods. “I’d imagine we all are.”

“I’m worried about what Blu did to him, what if it was something bad? What if they like… really fucked him up? I’m scared.”

Gunhee reaches across the table and takes one of Jooheon’s hands in his, squeezing tight. “We’ll be fine. Kwangji will be fine. We’ll- we’ll all settle down soon. I promise.”

“I hope you’re right, man.”

They arrive to HQ the same time as Minkyun does, complete with Kwangji and Yoosu (no surprise). Yoosu has one of Kwangji’s arms thrown around his shoulders, helping him across the parking lot, and Gunhee notices that Kwangji is limping slightly.

“It’s a sprain,” Yoosu says when he sees Gunhee looking. “Nothing’s broken, but I figure it’d be better to keep him mostly off it to avoid hurting it more.”

Gunhee nods in response, holding the door open for them. Jooheon pauses while he’s in front of Gunhee, then grins and leans in to kiss him, quick but firm. Gunhee sticks his tongue out at him before he enters the building himself.

HQ is immediately alight with talking as Kwangji is brought in and sat down, but what Gunhee notices first is Changkyun, standing across the room at Gunhee’s desk, looking at Kwangji with the most mortified expression he’s ever seen.

Gunhee grits his teeth unconsciously. That little prick had something to do with this, and he knows it, and he wishes he could beat a confession out of him without being reprimanded severely.

Changkyun approaches slowly, raising shaking hands to cover his mouth. He’s saying something, muffled by both his hands and those crowding around Kwangji to check on him. Only once he comes to stand beside Gunhee can Gunhee hear him.

“They weren’t supposed to do that,” Changkyun is saying, over and over again, and Gunhee can see tears glistening in his eyes.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Gunhee snaps before he can stop himself. Changkyun jumps, tears escaping his eyes, and Gunhee thinks about apologizing or at least holding himself back from saying more. But no, fuck that. “Seriously, shit’s been going wrong ever since you fucking got here. What the hell is up with you? What did you do?”

Changkyun’s face scrunches up and he lets out a choked sob, hands coming up to wipe his eyes almost angrily. “I- I-”

“Come on,” Gunhee cuts in, reaching over and grabbing Changkyun’s wrist. He drags him out of the circle of people and towards the stairs, heading for Siyoung’s office. “I know you were questioned already but something’s fucking up, come on.”

Changkyun trips along behind Gunhee, stifled noises coming from him every so often. Beyond his momentary anger, Gunhee feels almost sympathetic. Almost.

Gunhee opens the door to Siyoung’s office without knocking and Siyoung raises his eyebrows in question as Gunhee almost tosses Changkyun into a chair, then takes the other free seat.

“The fuck’s going on here?” Siyoung asks, tone dry.

“It was me,” Changkyun blurts suddenly, voice coming out airy. He doesn’t wipe the next wave of tears away. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I never- I never meant for any of this to happen, I-”

“Slow down, what the fuck are you talking about?” Siyoung demands, setting his mug down on the desk for once.

“My dad,” Changkyun begins, stopping to take a deep breath, “my dad is the head of intel at Blu Corp. He- he wanted me to do this, he wanted me to- to steal things and send messages and I did it but I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to.”

Gunhee feels his blood run cold. “So it was you, then," he says, almost in disbelief.

Changkyun nods, still tearful. “I’m so fucking _sorry_.”

“Spill, right now.” Siyoung says sharply, eyes intense. “What the fuck have you done since you got here?”

Changkyun wipes his eyes once more, squeezing them shut for a few moments. “I implemented the coding that locked your servers, but I didn’t write it. I- I… I gave them the date and time of when you were raiding their tech base. I made that doc on your computer, did all the changes to the messages that displayed myself, but that-” Changkyun breaks off to make a gesture downstairs, pointing behind him. “I had nothing to do with that. Not a single goddamn thing.”

Gunhee thinks over what Changkyun just said, then half-turns in his seat to face him better, anger like ice in his veins. “Changkyun,” Gunhee says quietly, and Changkyun still jumps. “Are you telling me that my boyfriend got shot through the fucking chest all because of your little bitch ass?”

Changkyun apparently sees no need to keep up pretenses. He nods. “They expected it, but they wouldn’t have known when if I hadn’t told them. Your raid would have gone as planned and nobody would have gotten hurt unless you fucked something up. So, yes.”

Siyoung must notice Gunhee’s hands curling into fists because he says Gunhee’s name harshly, bringing Gunhee’s attention to him. “Now is not the fucking time for this,” Siyoung says, and he’s right. But, oh, how Gunhee wants. How he wants to wrap his hands around Changkyun’s neck and _just_ \- “Changkyun,” Siyoung says then, “you are officially removed from Liberty.”

“I expected no less,” Changkyun replies quietly.

“Yes, but,” Siyoung shifts, chair squeaking, “we are not reporting you to the government, nor are we throwing you back to Blu just to get your ass kicked for failing your mission. You were our number one suspect but I had no real proof to get your ass thrown in jail, so you would have succeeded had you not confessed.” Siyoung is quiet for a moment, almost thoughtful. “I think that’s really something.”

“That was too much,” Changkyun says, voice soft and small. “Seeing- Seeing Kwangji like that, he- they wiped him clean, I know they did. I didn’t know they were going to do that, they didn’t tell me anything about that. I knew I had to stop.”

“And I respect that,” Siyoung responds, clasping his hands in front of him. “But, to continue off of what I said earlier. We will keep you here as long as you cooperate with us. You have to tell us what Blu is planning, what they know, what you sent to them. What they did to Kwangji, exactly.”

Changkyun is silent for a few long moments. He takes a deep breath, and nods. “Of course. I- I have no reason to deny. They’ll kill me if I go back.”

“Okay, hold on a goddamn minute,” Gunhee pipes up, laying a hand flat on Siyoung’s desk. “You really think we can trust this fuckin’ guy to give us intel from Blu?”

“I don’t know, Gunhee, can we?” Siyoung shoots back, annoyance flaring in his voice. “Who’s the fucking director here, Gunhee? I’d like it if you shut your goddamn mouth and let me make my own decisions without questioning them.”

Siyoung rarely exercises his power over anyone, having long thrown superiority out the window for the sake of working closely with his agents. But, Gunhee shrinks away, letting the argument die before it even begins.

“You’re both dismissed.” Siyoung says, picking his mug up and knocking back the rest of its contents in one go. “But, Changkyun… go home, and if Blu contacts you, do not tell them that you fessed up. Work on pretending, do not let them know.”

Changkyun nods, tears still clinging to his eyelashes. Gunhee still wants to kick his ass. Maybe another day.

 

Gunhee almost bares his teeth when Changkyun approaches his desk.

“Look, I know I’m the last fucking person you want to talk to right now,” Changkyun says, and he’s right, “but I have something really important to tell you before I go home.”

“Okay, fine. What is it?”

“Your last name is Song, right?” Changkyun asks, and Gunhee nods. “Okay. You have a cousin, right? He talks about you a lot.”

“Wait, you know my cous-” Gunhee cuts off as what Changkyun might have come over to tell him sinks in. “No. No, oh my god.”

Changkyun bites his bottom lip. “He’s… he’s poised to become the director, Gunhee.”

Gunhee slaps his hands over his face. He feels like screaming. “You’ve got to be shitting me.”

“No shitting here, Gunhee. He’s been my superior ever since I became an official member, he’s… very good at what he does.” Changkyun pauses, fiddling with one of the buttons on his coat. “I would… suggest not telling him anything anymore. I’m not suggesting that you have been, because I’m- I’m sure you know what precautions to take when telling outsiders about your work, but… maybe just let his calls bounce.”

Gunhee nods, and then musters up every ounce of courage and self-control he has to say, “Thanks. For telling me.”

Changkyun smiles briefly. “I figured you should know. I’m sworn to secrecy about who works in Blu Corp but really, who gives a shit now? I’ll be… around, I guess. Have a nice day, Gunhee.”

Gunhee watches over his shoulder as Changkyun uses the back exit, a gust of cold air reaching Gunhee as he exits. The thought that Changkyun might not be such a horrid kid after all infuriates Gunhee.

 

Changkyun is recounting, in detail, every nefarious plot he’s carried out within HQ for the records when it happens.

Gunhee asked if he could sit in on the meeting and Siyoung said yes, as long as he could control himself. Gunhee promised he could.

Apparently not, based by the ache in Gunhee’s hand, now, and the ice pack pressed against Changkyun’s cheek.

“I fucking told you,” Siyoung begins, but Changkyun cuts him off politely.

“It’s not like I don’t deserve it,” Changkyun says, even though there are still tears in his eyes. “I deserve a lot more, I deserve to be killed for what I’ve done, for the lives I’ve complicated or ruined. I’m sorry.”

Gunhee feels a painful pang of regret and guilt, looking down at his still-red knuckles. Siyoung announces that he’s stepping out to cool off for a moment and Gunhee sighs, then says, “Let me see.”

Changkyun removes the ice pack from his cheek and tilts his head towards the light so Gunhee can see better. While the coldness has sucked the color away from the area, there’s still a dark bruise visible, just under Changkyun’s cheekbone. Changkyun puts the ice pack back once he’s convinced Gunhee’s gotten a good look.

“Sorry,” Gunhee mumbles.

“Don’t be,” Changkyun says in reply.

They sit in silence, Gunhee staring at his hands, trying to think of something to say. He eventually sucks in a breath and says, “Changkyun, can I ask you something?”

“Well, you just did,” Changkyun replies smoothly, and Gunhee grimaces.

“Don’t do that if you don’t want to get hit again.”

“Sorry. But, yeah, sure.”

“Did… did you have a choice?” Gunhee asks, then elaborates. “Any say in the matter, any chance to decline the mission.”

“Hell no,” Changkyun replies, leaning back in his seat. “When Blu Corp tells you to do something, you are absolutely expected to do it, no matter what. The higher ups can refuse assignments, but when you’re low on the ladder like me, there’s no way. I couldn’t have said no.”

Gunhee nods thoughtfully, taking the information in. “That- that makes it… I don’t know. If you had the chance to refuse it and you didn’t I would have been a lot more pissed off. Since you were forced, it makes me… god, I don’t have words for it. I don’t think I’ll hit you again.”

Changkyun chuckles. “Nice to know.” He’s silent for a moment, tapping his foot idly. “My father recommended me for it. Things like this are usually reserved for more skilled people, people who have been part of the corporation for a very long time. The… the one who was originally supposed to do it was, y’know. Your cousin.”

It stings a bit. Gunhee gestures for Changkyun to go on.

“But, it was decided that he was too conspicuous to fit in with the other young interns, and plus you’re related to him, so that’s not good.” Changkyun sighs, and when Gunhee looks over, he thinks that Changkyun looks much more tired and worn than any person his age should be. “I was recommended and assigned, eventually, because I’m young and because it would provide some experience. And, if I was successful, it would basically rocket me up the ladder. I could take on bigger and better missions, become more powerful, all that… but I never really wanted to be powerful, anyway.”

“So you’re saying that you’re only part of Blu because of your fuckin’ dad?” Gunhee asks, and Changkyun nods. “That’s rough, man.”

“I guess so.” Changkyun chews at his bottom lip, not looking at Gunhee. “You don’t have to forgive me, ever, for anything. I don’t expect you to.”

Gunhee’s not sure what to say to that, so he stays quiet. Siyoung comes in a few moments later, sliding into his seat with a smile on his face.

“What a lovely heart-to-heart,” Siyoung says, and Gunhee’s cheeks flare. “Now, back to this.”

  
  


Gunhee manages (with some struggle) to not snap at Changkyun anymore after that. The others, though... He’s not sure what he expected, nor is he sure if this is what he thought it would be.

It almost hurts seeing Changkyun walk in and feeling the way the entire atmosphere of the room changes. Conversation stops, and it seems like half the eyes in the room are on Changkyun while the other half pointedly look away. Beside Gunhee, Jooheon turns his head ever so slightly and focuses on Gunhee’s laptop screen, tensing up noticeably. Yoonho and Seokwon look like they’re trying to become one with their desks and computers, and Minkyun is pressing so close to Yoosu that Gunhee can see the latter wince. Kihyun’s gaze is steady on Changkyun, as is Minhyuk’s, though his shoulders seem to be shaking. Hyungwon is glaring. Wonho just stares.

Gunhee rises to meet Changkyun before he can move more than a few steps away from the entrance. Changkyun flinches away when Gunhee approaches, and Gunhee thinks he might feel a twinge of pity in his chest at the (honestly pathetic) look in Changkyun’s eyes. “Hey, I’m- I’m going over the records from the session yesterday, could you, you know, help me make sure I didn’t miss anything?” It’s a struggle in itself to get the words out, never mind saying them evenly, especially with so many people watching. “I’m pretty sure I have everything, but. Just in case.”

Changkyun stares wide-eyed at him for a few beats, then swallows nervously and nods. “S-Sure. Alright.” He follows Gunhee back to his desk, skirting around the chair Jooheon is sitting in without looking him in the face. Gunhee can’t quite imagine what either of the two are thinking.

It should be strange, reading through everything Changkyun has done to benefit Blu and hurt Liberty with the boy right next to him, and it is strange, but not how Gunhee thinks it would be. It’s awkward and tense, but Gunhee doesn’t have the urge to hit Changkyun like he thought he would. Jooheon is stiff on Gunhee’s other side as they scroll through the document, silent for once.

“Can I say something?” Changkyun says abruptly, his voice soft. “To you- Jooheon.”

Jooheon inhales sharply through his nose. Slowly, like he’s trying very hard to control his tone, he says, “I guess. What?” Gunhee can feel his shoulders trembling ever so slightly.

Changkyun takes a deep breath, his eyes downcast. “I don’t think I’ve ever really apologized specifically to you for, well. Everything.”

“Getting me shot.”

“Yeah. I… I didn’t know- I didn’t think about anyone getting seriously hurt, I just… I don’t know what else could have happened, but I didn’t mean for that to happen. Really.” Changkyun bites at his lower lip, and Gunhee thinks he might see tears in his eyes. “You probably won’t forgive me, and I totally understand that, I- I wouldn’t forgive me either if I was you-”

“Kid,” Jooheon says. Changkyun cuts himself off in a heartbeat. Jooheon shifts so he can look Changkyun in the eye. Gunhee, caught in between them, scoots back to let them have whatever “heart-to-heart” (as Siyoung called yesterday’s conversation) they need to have. “I’ll be completely fucking honest. I do kind of blame you, and I’m pretty fucking mad.” Changkyun’s eyes really do fill with tears at that. Then, Jooheon sighs, and continues in a softer tone, “I can’t really get myself to direct all that anger at you, though, because it was Blu directing you, and I know you didn’t have that much of a choice. I get that. I’m still angry as hell, of course, but.” He shakes his head and makes a vague gesture with his hands. “It’s not all you. You get that?”

Changkyun nods shakily, tears starting to spill. Gunhee mentally makes a note to restock the tissues when he has the chance - a job that usually Kwangji would take care of, but, well, that’s obviously not an option right now. “I deserve worse,” Changkyun says, his voice rising in pitch as he hiccups sobs. “You all say you don’t hate me even though you have all the right to, you _should_ hate me, I’ve ruined everything - look at Kwangji, he’s - it’s all because of me.”

Gunhee realizes they have a bit of an audience. Hyungwon is watching them from across the room, eyes narrowed and expression unreadable. Gunhee doesn't know if he can hear them, but he's sure to have seen Changkyun crying. Something about how he's looking at them makes Gunhee uneasy. "Look, guys," he says, standing up. Changkyun blinks up at him, startled, but Jooheon catches on quickly, standing up as well. "We can continue this conversation elsewhere. People are starting to notice."

Changkyun sniffs and gets to his feet. Gunhee claps a hand on his shoulder after a moment of hesitation and steers him towards the back stairwell, Jooheon trailing behind them.

By the time they get there, though, it seems like whatever words they were going to say have dissipated, leaving nothing in the air but an awkwardness that makes Gunhee's skin prickle as Changkyun wipes at his eyes to clear his tears with little success. Jooheon leans against the wall with his arms crossed, scuffing the sole of his shoe against the floor.

"I'm sorry," Changkyun murmurs into the silence. "It's probably the thousandth time I've said this, but I'm- I'm so sorry."

"'Sorry' doesn't fix anything, kid," Gunhee points out, a little more harshly than he means to. Changkyun's head bows. "At least you're trying."

He thinks Jooheon stifles a snort. It's a little rude, maybe, but Gunhee doesn't blame him. Not one bit.

  
  


Yoonho and Seokwon, Gunhee notices, haven't seemed to leave Kwangji's side since he set foot in HQ again. Kwangji sits by the two techies’ desks as they work, expressionless, his eyes blank. Yoonho and Seokwon talk to him all throughout the day, and though Gunhee doesn't mean to eavesdrop, he can't help but hear some of the conversation—or, rather, monologue, as Kwangji is always unresponsive.

Gunhee's walking by on the way to the restroom when he hears Yoonho saying, "You know, you helped a lot when we first got here." He stops as Yoonho continues, "You- I know you don't remember, but when Seo and I first came..." Yoonho laughs, airy. "We were such a mess."

A quick glance tells Gunhee that Seokwon is busily typing what looks to be code, while Yoonho's attention is fixed completely and totally on Kwangji, one finger absentmindedly clicking his mouse every once in a while. Gunhee figures they won't notice him standing there listening, so listen he does.

"We were so eager to just _do_ something once we got moved here. You kept telling us, don't mess with the programming, especially not on the mainframe, but we didn't listen, and sometimes it was fine, but other times it wasn't. We got in so much trouble sometimes, Kwangji." Yoonho shakes his head, seemingly at the memory of himself. "And you were so disappointed in us. That was worse than whatever lecture Siyoung would give us—you'd just look at us and look sad and sigh and we felt so bad because of it, you have no idea."

He falls into silence for a few moments, perhaps thinking of what else to say, then continues, "This really sucks. Like, this really _really_ sucks. You- you were so important to all of us—you _are_ important to all of us, but you don't even know that." Yoonho reaches for one of Kwangji's hands and folds both of his over it. Seokwon's stopped typing now, and is rolling his chair over so he's next to Yoonho. Yoonho glances sideways at him, his jaw clenched in an effort to hold back what could only be tears. Gunhee is starting to wonder if he should just go now.

"Kwangji," Yoonho says. "What did Blu fucking do to you?"

Seokwon looks like he wants to say something, but Kwangji beats him to it.

"I don't know," he murmurs. He looks down at where Yoonho's hands are holding onto his, then back up at Yoonho. "I don't know."

Gunhee can see the shine in Yoonho's eyes that means he's tearing up. It tugs painfully at his own heart, and at this point, it really does feel like he's intruding.

"Anything?" Seokwon asks, hesitant. It's not like they haven't asked this many times over, already, tried to get some kind of memory out of Kwangji. "You... You're sure you don't remember anything, anything at all? Just- something that happened recently, or a long time ago, I don't care—something someone said to you, anything?"

Kwangji stares at Seokwon, then looks around, aimlessly, his gaze sliding past where Gunhee is standing awkwardly some distance away from their desks. When his eyes drift back to Seokwon, there's a rigidness in his spine that wasn't there before.

"They want to come here."

Yoonho and Seokwon both seem to jerk in surprise. "What?" Yoonho says, leaning forward so quickly his chair slides back a few inches.

"They want to come here and hurt people." Kwangji fidgets, the stiffness of his shoulders obvious now. "They want to hurt- the boss, the director- his name-?" His words stutter off, and he pulls his hand out of Yoonho's grasp to press his palm to his forehead. "Si- Siyoung. They want to hurt him. They want to come here with guns and flames and-" He shakes his head, evidently grasping for memories. "They said to be scared."

Seokwon stands up, an incomprehensible mix of emotions streaked across his face, hesitating, gaze flitting from a stricken Yoonho to the door to upstairs, to Siyoung's office. Gunhee catches his eye and flaps a hand at him.

"I'll go. You stay with him," he says, and Seokwon nods, lower lip caught between his teeth as he sinks back into his chair.

Gunhee all but runs.

 

Siyoung has nothing more to offer in response to this information than a smack of the lips. Gunhee stares at him, expectant, still trying to catch his breath from his sprint up the stairs.

“Well?” Gunhee eventually prompts.

“Well, what?” Siyoung asks in turn. “There’s not a damn thing we can do about it. What do you expect me to do, Gunhee? Go into hiding? Head a raid on Blu’s main HQ? I’m not fucking stupid.” Siyoung kicks his feet up and rests them on his desk, dried mud flaking off his boots. “If they want to kill me, they will no matter what. So who cares?”

“I fucking care!” Gunhee almost shouts, and he squashes down his guilt concerning yelling at his superior for just a moment. “We are literally on the verge of Blu executing possibly the- the biggest plan they ever have! Making the most drastic goddamn move they’ve ever made in regards to us! And I don’t think it would be a very wise fucking decision for our director to give up and accept his death.” Gunhee tries to bring his voice down to a more respectable level, taking a deep breath before continuing. “Can you imagine the panic it would cause, trying to find a new director if you died? That’s got to be Blu’s plan, to kill you and then kill the rest of us while we’re trying to find someone else to lead us.”

“And that’s why you’re not supposed to fucking rely on me, Gunhee,” Siyoung says, almost matching Gunhee in volume. “I’m human, I make mistakes, I get hurt and I’ll _die_ , sooner or later. You guys have to learn how to survive without me.”

“So what,” Gunhee says, with a disbelieving laugh, “is that it? You’re just going to sit here while Blu comes at us with guns blazing and do nothing? What happened to- to the man I was introduced to when I first joined? All smiles, talking this and that about our future?”

“He’s been gone for years,” Siyoung bites out. “He wasn’t even the man you think he was when you met him. This whole fucking job, Gunhee, it’s useless in the goddamn end. You know what it gets you? Circles under your eyes and an alcohol dependency. I can’t keep a decent relationship, I haven’t seen my mom in years, Gunhee, because I don’t have the fucking time. I haven’t gone a day without drinking something since I became director.” Siyoung nearly kicks over his own mug when he brings his feet down off his desk. “It’s not worth a goddamn bit of it. Glory, honor, prestige? Fuck all that. I’d rather get a good night’s sleep.”

Gunhee is silent for a very long time, deliberating on whether to speak or not, but Siyoung speaks first. “Now. Get out of my office. Tell me if Kwangji remembers anything else.”

Gunhee feels strangely gutted, knowing that his suspicions that this job wasn’t doing a damn thing for Siyoung have been right this whole time. He feels… bad, about it, bad about yelling at him.

Gunhee does leave, then comes back. “I’m sorry,” he says quietly, hand lingering on the door jam.

Siyoung stares at him for a few long moments. There are tears in his eyes and it scares Gunhee to death. Siyoung shakes his head and Gunhee takes that as his cue to leave.

 

“What is he doing?” Gunhee asks once he’s on ground level again, coming to join those congregated around Kwangji, who’s hunched over in a chair muttering something to himself.

“He keeps saying all this stuff, nobody knows what it means.” Yoonho says, sounding just as frazzled as he looks. “Seokwon wrote all of it down before Kwangji started repeating himself, look.”

Seokwon supplies the paper and Gunhee rakes his eyes over it, face scrunching up in confusion.

_Death_

_The Orion Project (?)_

_Song_

_Alone/lonely_

_Angry_

_Mino_

Gunhee inhales sharply. Then, he calls Changkyun’s name over his shoulder.

Changkyun hurries over quickly, eyebrows raised in inquiry before he even reaches Gunhee. Gunhee passes the paper over to him.

“Any of this mean anything to you, in particular?” Gunhee asks.

“Oh, yeah, uh… well, you know. Song Mino, that’s your cousin, uh… the Orion Project is what this is called.”

“This?” Gunhee repeats, prompting for more.

“Yeah, this.” Changkyun gestures to Kwangji, to the room at large. “There are seven main stars in the constellation Orion. There are seven main steps to taking down Liberty.”

“What are they? Do you know?” Gunhee asks, feeling himself turning frantic.

Changkyun flusters for a moment, stuttering over syllables before he gets himself together. “The, the first was- was me, putting me in here. Uh, t-the, the second was the mainframe break, the third was kidnapping Kwangji, a-and… the others, they only told me the next one.”

“Which is?” Gunhee asks, growing impatient.

“Killing Siyoung,” Changkyun says quietly. “After that, I’m- I’m not sure.”

Gunhee grits his teeth. “There’s three steps beyond that. What the fuck are they? What else can they do besides kill our director?”

“Kill all of you,” Changkyun offers. Gunhee sighs.

“Yeah, I guess so. God damn.” Gunhee takes the paper from Changkyun’s hands and gives it back to Seokwon, then sits in the nearest free chair. “This is so much shit to deal with, all the time. I wish it could go back to the way it was… sharp tuxes, polite conversations for hours, nobody hurt or stressed.”

Nobody responds to Gunhee’s mumbling, at least, not until hands go over his eyes. He can tell by their softness that it’s Jooheon, though, and then also thinks that it might be a little weird that he can recognize his boyfriend by his hands. “What, Joo.” Gunhee deadpans.

“Hey, you look like shit,” Jooheon says brightly, uncovering Gunhee’s face and leaning over. “What’s up?”

“They’re gonna kill Siyoung and Siyoung doesn’t give a damn.” Gunhee responds. Jooheon whistles lowly.

“Rough shit. He’ll get over it, he’ll give a damn sooner or later.”

Gunhee’s not so sure.

 

A couple days pass, and then Changkyun is bursting into HQ with his cell phone outstretched in his hands.

“Everyone!” Changkyun yells to get their attention, and it seems like a few are inclined to ignore him entirely due to his track record. Gunhee, however, is not.

“What’s up?” Gunhee asks, coming to him immediately.

“So, as you know, Blu doesn’t know that the cat’s out of the bag yet.” Changkyun says, stopping to catch his breath. “They gave me a new message. I was supposed to do something similar to the coding dupe I did on your laptop, and put this message in.” Changkyun turns his phone screen towards him and presses a button, presumably to turn the speaker function on, then turns it to project into the room again.

The sound of the voice on the message makes everyone in the room shut up, loud and commanding. Gunhee expected nothing less of the director of Blu. “ _Hello, Changkyun,_ ” the message begins, and Gunhee feels his blood run cold as he realizes that’s not the director of Blu, that’s his cousin. “ _We have a new message for you to give to our darlings at Liberty. Ask the dearest director if the name Hunchul means anything to him. Thank you for your hard work and perseverance._ ”

The message ends with a dull click and Changkyun puts his phone in his pocket, face drawn. “That’s…” Gunhee says, stopping to take a deep breath. “That’s Mino, right?”

Changkyun nods. “The head of the Orion Project, yes.”

Gunhee closes his eyes. “Well. I guess we better tell Siyoung, then, come on.”

They head upstairs to find Siyoung staring at his phone. He barely glances up when they come in.

“If you’re here to tell me, I already know,” Siyoung says, and there’s something off about his voice. Gunhee and Changkyun share a look. “They sent me a text from his phone.”

“So-” Gunhee begins, but Siyoung cuts him off with a wave of the hand.

“Please,” Siyoung says, and Gunhee realizes what was so off about his voice. He’s about to cry. “I don’t want to talk about this. Not right now.”

“But-” Changkyun tries, but Siyoung waves his hand again.

“Please,” Siyoung repeats, almost pleading. It wrenches Gunhee’s heart.

Gunhee looks at Changkyun and jerks his head toward the door. Changkyun nods and follows Gunhee out it.

“So…” Changkyun says quietly, because they’re still in the hall and Siyoung can probably hear them. “The name Hunchul does mean something to him, huh.”

“That’s his boyfriend,” Gunhee says, and Changkyun’s lips part in a silent gasp. “Siyoung is… bad with emotions. He would rather die than cry in front of us. That’s why he told us to leave.”

“I feel so bad,” Changkyun blurts, and Gunhee shakes his head.

“This isn’t you anymore. It’s all them.” Gunhee starts for the stairs. “And I’ve got a call to make.”

 

The first time, it goes to voicemail. Gunhee tries again, and again, and again, until-

“What do you want, Gunhee?”

Mino’s voice is clipped and annoyed. Gunhee matches his tone just to mock him. “I want to know what the fuck you’re doing.”

“I’m watching a movie, currently. What’s got you all angry?”

“Oh, I dunno,” Gunhee says, heading out the door and standing along the wall. “Just the fact you’ve been hiding shit from me for fucking years.”

“We all hide things, Gunhee.” Mino says nonchalantly.

“Ah, but not things as serious as this.”

Mino is silent, then he sighs. “You seriously think I was ever going to tell you that I work for Blu? You’ve got to be out of your damn mind. Besides, what’s it to you? You can’t do a goddamn thing about it.”

Gunhee’s free hand fists at his side. “I am going to do a goddamn thing about it. Blood relation or not, you’re the first motherfucker I’m throwing in the pit.”

“Prison can’t do a damn thing to me,” Mino says, sharp edge to his voice.

“No, but the grave sure can. Explain that to Auntie then, how you betrayed your fucking country, your relatives, worked towards destroying your own family’s livelihood.”

“Shut your fucking mouth!” Mino shouts, and Gunhee has to hold the phone a little away from his ear. “This is all for them, you don’t know a goddamn thing about this! You’ve got no fucking room to talk!”

“You could have worked for Liberty and done the same fucking thing!” Gunhee shouts back. “If it’s for money, Liberty pays well. Protection? My mom’s never gotten any flack, my sister is safe and engaged. A drive, encouragement, something to do? We’re working towards the greater fucking good, towards the protection of South Korea, working to keep ourselves and our families and friends alive. What the hell are you working towards, huh?”

“My own goddamn death,” Mino spits back. “You’re not gonna have to worry about putting me in the ground because I’ve already called ahead and made reservations with Hell. Goodbye, Gunhee. I’ll see you when I come to slit your throat.”

The line goes quiet and Gunhee feels frustrated tears come to his eyes. He slams his fist against the wall, hard enough that it most definitely hurts. He’d rather slam his phone against the wall, but he kind of needs that.

Gunhee turns towards the wall and rests his forehead against the gray bricks, slipping his phone into his pocket. It’s a long while of birds chirping overhead and Gunhee’s own breathing before the door opens.

It’s Jooheon, who is about the only person Gunhee could stand to talk to right now. “Hey, man, noticed you disappeared. You okay?”

Gunhee does actually cry, this time, but it’s all hot and angry. “I hate my fucking cousin, so much.” Gunhee says, voice quivering.

“Woah, man.” Jooheon says in response, coming to put an arm around Gunhee. “Don’t cry, why are you crying?”

“Because I’m so stupid!” Gunhee bursts out, standing up and pacing away from the wall, then back. “I’m so fucking stupid! Every little thing I ever let slip about what we were doing, that goddamn dickhead was feeding right back to Blu! I never suspected it because I didn’t know how he could do that to his family, to me- we’re not close but I thought he would give a shit.” Gunhee wipes at his eyes angrily, then breaks into a sob. “Joo, I don’t know what to do…”

Jooheon takes a few careful steps towards him, then pulls him into a tight hug. “Me either, babe. We’re all screwed, really.” Jooheon pauses to chuckle. “At least if we die, we’ll die together.”

Gunhee doesn’t respond in favor of burying his face into Jooheon’s neck, smelling this morning’s cologne and a little bit of sweat. “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” Gunhee whispers. Jooheon pats his back.

“Same to you. Even when you’re being a weird mess of emotions, I still love you, dude.”

“I love you too.” Gunhee’s voice catches, and Jooheon holds him tighter. “More than you’ll ever know.”

Jooheon laughs, pulling Gunhee’s face up to wipe at it with his sleeves. “Come on, man. It’s kind of cold out here, right? Clean yourself up and come inside.”

“I’m sorry,” Gunhee whispers, tears still streaming down his face. “I got you into all this, I’m so sorry…”

“Hey, none of that shit today.” Jooheon says, firmness a ploy at getting Gunhee to smile. It doesn’t work. “Come on, seriously. None of this is your fault. Now’s really not the time for this, cry later when we can cuddle. Okay?”

Gunhee nods in silent defeat. Jooheon flashes a smile at him and leads him back into HQ, turning to kiss his cheek before they come into the office proper.

Gunhee doesn’t really feel any better, not when he looks at the faces of his coworkers, not when he thinks about Siyoung upstairs, who actually has a reason to cry. He feels- drained, completely, like he’s a robot running on empty and nobody has extra batteries for him.

Gunhee slumps over on his desk, feeling keyboard keys depress when his forehead falls on it. He doesn’t move.

 

Gunhee is called up to Siyoung’s office and Gunhee is somewhat alarmed by how awful Siyoung looks: glasses off and laying on the desk with tear specks on them, not just his mug but the whole bottle of scotch sitting beside them, his phone apparently still open to Hunchul’s conversation.

“Uh, you called for me, sir…?” Gunhee says by way of greeting. Siyoung meets his eyes and Gunhee’s heart aches for him.

“Yes, I did,” Siyoung replies, and his voice is croaky. “Sit, please.”

Gunhee does so, feeling awkward. He’s never seen Siyoung cry, not for real, and definitely not to this degree.

Siyoung looks not at Gunhee, but somewhere beyond him. “Of course, you know I can’t- I can’t just… go get him. I can’t… lead my men into a trap.” Siyoung closes his eyes, sliding further into his chair. “Because this is all it is, just like everything else Blu does. It’s a scare tactic. They’re… hitting me where it hurts.”

Gunhee nods in agreement even though Siyoung can’t see it. “Y-Yes, they are. Uh, no disrespect intended, but… why are you telling me this?”

“Because I need to tell someone who isn’t going to give me useless advice,” Siyoung says, voice drifting out tired and seemingly disinterested. “Hunchul is the only thing keeping me on God’s green earth at this point and I cannot go and save him and it is _killing me_ , Gunhee.”

Gunhee feels the prick of tears in his own eyes, sees them in Siyoung’s. “I’m sorry,” Gunhee says, for lack of anything else to say.

“As am I,” Siyoung says, and it seems like his voice is getting smaller, softer somehow. “I don’t know what to do. I can’t do anything at all. And he’s going to be so disappointed in me when- _if_ they let him go. Because… he’ll have expected me to put aside my goddamn duties to save him.” Siyoung lets out a sob and Gunhee jumps. “I- I couldn’t even keep him safe, Gunhee, I- fuck. I hate myself so much.”

“You always tell me to put my work before my personal obligations,” Gunhee says softly. “If- If Hunchul was really prepared to date someone involved in this kind of work, especially the director, he… he’ll understand. I promise.”

Siyoung presses the heels of his hands to closed eyes. “I know, I know. I- I wanted to protect him, I wanted to keep him a secret. But nothing is a secret, apparently.” Siyoung’s voice is becoming choked, and he wipes his sleeves across his eyes. “I- I never wanted him to be used as a pawn, used to scare me. Killed to scare me. I just… I wanted to keep him safe.”

“I know,” Gunhee whispers. “I… I understand it.”

“I’m sorry,” Siyoung says quietly, sitting up proper and unscrewing the lid off the bottle of scotch. “I’m sorry. For crying, I mean. For… being such a shitty director. The last guy was probably better.”

“From what I’ve heard, Daewoong was definitely not better.” Gunhee says, a laugh carrying on his voice in an attempt to lighten the mood. Thankfully, Siyoung’s mouth does curve up, however slightly.

“Ah, yes. I went to school with that son of a bitch, I can’t believe he ended up higher than me so quickly.” Siyoung knocks back a drink of the liquor, pausing for a long moment before taking another. “Hope he’s doing alright. Once you’re in this life, you’re never really out… he’s on pension for psychological damage, did you know that?” Siyoung laughs airily, and Gunhee can almost smell the alcohol on his breath from here. “Maybe I’ll end up like him. I wonder who’s set up to succeed me as director… should probably get in touch with them. Oh, you can go now, by the way. If you want to.”

Gunhee is torn, because he feels like Siyoung needs to be alone but also needs to have someone here to listen to him blabber on, especially if he ends up getting drunk. He needs someone to look after him.

In the end, Gunhee licks his lips and shakes his head. “No, I’ll stay.”

The relief is palpable. “Thanks. I wasn’t gonna make you, but if you’d left I would have quite literally knocked half of this bottle back in one go.”

“I-If you don’t mind me asking… what will you do if they, you know-?” Gunhee makes a vague gesture to imply the death of Hunchul.

Siyoung laughs, short and pained. “I’ll kill myself, Gunhee. I told you, he’s the only reason I’m here- I feel like doing that now, really, because I couldn’t protect him from this shit in the first place. In the end, not a damn thing I do keeps me from failure. It never has and it never will.”

Gunhee thinks about saying some generic line about how Siyoung killing himself would ultimately cause more harm than good and make Hunchul’s death in vain, but then he imagines himself in Siyoung’s place (and Jooheon in Hunchul’s) and understands a little better.

“I’ll sit here as long as you need me,” Gunhee says instead. Siyoung nods.

“Thanks.”

 

A week passes in silence and tension until, the following Sunday, the door to HQ is all but kicked open.

“Sorry I don’t come bearing pizza,” Hunchul says as he walks in, giving a cursory glance to all in the room. “Also sorry I’m here just to talk to Siyoung. I’ll be back later for more, uh… proper greetings. Or some shit. Bye.”

Gunhee’s eyes follow Hunchul up the stairs and Jooheon nudges him in the side. “Holy shit,” Gunhee whispers.

“I mean… he looked like shit but he’s alive!” Jooheon says brightly, and that seems to sink it in for everyone else as well, chatter blooming around the room.

Hunchul is only upstairs for a maximum of two minutes, leaving before anyone can say anything to him with a wave over his shoulder and a promise to, again, be back later for proper greetings. Gunhee looks at Jooheon.

“You’re gonna go talk to him later, aren’t you?” Jooheon asks.

“Yep.”

And, Gunhee does. He’s only been to Hunchul’s apartment a couple times, but he likes to think he has a good memory in times of need (or maybe he just got lucky).

He knocks on the door and says when Hunchul opens it, “Hey, I’m here to be a nosy bitch and also check up on you. Is that cool?”

Hunchul laughs, grin spreading across his face. He’s missing a tooth. “Sure, come in. I was making some tea, do you want some?”

“Ah, no thank you.” Gunhee says politely, feeling awkward and shuffling in to sit on Hunchul’s couch while Hunchul disappears to finish his tea.

Hunchul comes back with a large mug in his hands and sits in the armchair to Gunhee’s left, leaning forward to sit the mug on the table. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Gunhee repeats, smiling. “Are- are you okay? Like, overall?”

“I guess,” Hunchul says, shrugging. “Or, well, really I’m not, but- it’s not like it’s worth giving a damn about.” Gunhee detects the bitterness underneath his voice and wants to point it out. He doesn’t. “A killer headache, missing teeth, and some neat information that I didn’t really want but got anyway.”

“Care to share?” Gunhee asks, trying to keep his tone as conversational as possible.

“Sure! They’re going to kill my boyfriend and your cousin is being appointed director.”

“Nothing I didn’t already know,” Gunhee replies. Hunchul snorts.

“Of course. Blu certainly loves sending messages. Little shitheads.” Hunchul picks his mug up and sips at his tea, sighing into the mug. “God. They dropped me off on the side of the road, I had to walk a really long way… I went to HQ first because I had some things to say to Siyoung, first and foremost. And, no, Gunhee, you cannot ask about that.”

Gunhee nods like a reprimanded child, because he was literally just about to. “Okay.”

“Something I think I’ve learned,” Hunchul says thoughtfully, still holding the mug in his hands, “is that Blu abandons ideas very quickly. If Liberty doesn’t crumble instantly, they give it up. Good news for me, I guess, but maybe they’d have better results if they weren’t so damn wishy-washy. Stick to a goddamn plan, Jesus.”

“They are sticking to a plan, in the end,” Gunhee says quietly. “The Orion Project, an endeavour to end Liberty once and for all. They’re gonna kill Siyoung and torch HQ, apparently.”

“Ah, how nice.” Hunchul replies, dripping sarcasm. “God, I cannot stand your fucking cousin’s voice. He seems like a very charming man, which is probably why he’s being pushed up to the director position, but he’s so fucking condescending. Like, yes, Mino, I’m fully fucking aware that I made a mistake dating a government agent and that you’re going to kill me someday but not now. You can stop fucking repeating yourself.”

Gunhee chuckles a bit, and is relieved to see that Hunchul does too. “Yeah, he even does that in normal conversation. I… talked with him last week, it was hell.”

“I’d imagine. Hey, that one intern you guys had. He was a rat, wasn’t he?”

“The best damn rat I’ve ever seen,” Gunhee responds. “He caved pretty quickly, Blu also kidnapped Kwangji and fucked him up real nice. Wiped his memory, it seems.”

“Ah. Blu likes abductions, apparently.” Hunchul rolls his eyes. “Whatever. I guess the rest of the things from my ordeal is… up to me to sort through. But, can I ask you something? And you’re still not allowed to ask about me and Siyoung.”

“Sure.”

“I… I’m sure you can guess it,” Hunchul says, looking away from Gunhee. “But… I just want to know why. Siyoung wouldn’t tell me. Why… didn’t he… god.”

“Siyoung tore himself apart enough without you doing it as well,” Gunhee says, pointedly making his voice as soft as possible. He’s not accusing Hunchul of anything, simply… warning him. “He wouldn’t stop crying, Hunchul, I- seriously, I’d never seen him cry ever before then. You know I wouldn’t bullshit you just to save his ass, he deserves every bit of, of bitterness and hatred you could throw at him now. But, really, he was so torn… between duty and personal conviction.”

“Yes, well.” Hunchul pauses to take a long drink of his tea. “I suppose when you’ve been told time and time again you’re the only thing keeping someone afloat, you expect them to prove they care a little more when you’re literally fucking abducted by public and private enemy number one.”

Gunhee can’t rebuke that. Hunchul continues. “Anyway. They smashed my phone to pieces and I’ll be moving soon, hopefully to ward against them snatching me again. I might quit work, as well. I don’t know.” He sighs, holding his mug a bit tighter. “Thank you for coming to check on me, by the way. I’m… definitely not the best right now, but I’m alive and that’s all that matters, right?”

“Right,” Gunhee agrees with a smile. “I guess I can leave you alone now, to enjoy your tea in private.”

“Oh, yeah, there’s nothing I love more than private tea drinking. Me and this tea are intimate right now.”

Gunhee snorts, standing. “Uh… if you can remember my phone number, call me if you need anything. If not, just… shout into the sky. I will be listening.”

It’s Hunchul’s turn to snort. “Sounds like a plan to me. Take care of yourself ‘til we talk again, man.”

“You too.” Gunhee says as he leaves with a wave and a soft _bye!_ He stands outside Hunchul’s apartment for a long while, staring at the pattern in the hallway’s carpet. He can’t imagine Siyoung and Hunchul falling apart, and yet, here they are, driven separate ways by a conflict of obligation.

Gunhee suspects that they won’t reconcile as easily as Jooheon and he did. And he seriously worries for both of them as a result.


	3. bellatrix

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Normal is all they can hope for, now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WE LITERALLY JSUT FINISHED THIS LIKE RIGHT NOW AND IM SO!! EXCITED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
> it took us FOUR MONTHS to write this i love us!! i love us  
> id also like to add that it was cindys idea to switch the pov for the last part. it worked out nicely but idk how you guys will like it?? i hope u do ;;  
> anyway we're not even anywhere near done with all the Layers this au has but idk how soon we'll dig into sidestories!! we shall see. but be assured that it will be DONE. we have at least six planned so it doesnt get much better than that  
> thank you to everyone who reads this!! cindy and i are super proud of it and we're so thankful for your support~~
> 
> cindy here: I CANT BELIEVE WE'VE FINISHED THIS! I mean it's mostly my fault it took so long Sorry Jesse but. God fucking bless this is free we've unleashed it upon the world at last. I apologize in advance for. Everything that happens   
> But really like what jesse said THANK YOU!! so much for supporting this and enjoying it nothing gives me more happiness. Thank you
> 
> kudos + comments are appreciated!! we hope u enjoy!!

Someone is screaming.

Minkyun can’t see who through the smoke, but it sounds familiar, sounds like someone he knows. He fumbles blindly for something he could use as a weapon, knowing he should have a handgun stowed somewhere in his desk, finds it only after he begins to think his heart is going to stop beating soon. Weapon in hand, he takes a careful step into the red-orange haze, towards the voice that’s somewhere he can’t see.

It’s a good thing he knows his way around HQ so well, well enough that, even with smoke filling the room so he can hardly see in front of him, he manages to maneuver around desks, step over the raised parts of the carpet that he used to trip on as a newbie, his gun raised with shaking hands the whole time.

There’s a gunshot, not from Minkyun’s gun, and the screaming cuts off. Dread fills Minkyun’s veins. _Don’t panic. Do not panic._

His foot hits something that he _knows_ wasn’t there before. He almost doesn’t want to look down, but look he does, and of course, he regrets it immediately.

The face staring up at him with glazed eyes and just barely parted lips is a face he knows very well. Blood seeping heavy through his shirt, brown hair fallen away from his face, it’s-

Minkyun wretches. It’s not, it’s _not,_ it’s just _not_. Except for the fact that, well, it is. It is Yoosu, and he’s dead. It’s Yoosu with a bullet hole straight through his heart and it’s Yoosu’s who’s fucking _dead_ at Minkyun’s feet-

Minkyun wakes up with a cry. He’s covered with a cold sweat and trembling, and there are tears in his eyes, trailing down his cheeks. He presses the heels of his palms to his eyes and tries to stop the tremor in his bones with little success. The image of Yoosu sprawled across the floor, bloody and still, won’t get out of his head, is seared on the insides of his eyelids so that every time he closes his eyes he sees it again. The tears won’t stop.

His phone lights up on his bedside table. A text from none other than Yoosu, a simple _are you awake?_ It’s a few minutes before 7 AM.

Minkyun bites back a pathetic sob as he reaches for his phone and unlocks it to send a reply. He still prefers to try to keep what little dignity he has left, even if no one's around to hear it.

_yeah. can I talk to you?_

He gets a response within a heartbeat. _sure, what's up?_

Minkyun sinks his teeth into his lower lip, worrying at it as he types, _no I mean, can I call you? I need to hear your voice._

He's glad Yoosu doesn't question it, because he's not sure if he would have been able to answer. "I'm sorry," he says when Yoosu picks up the call.

"What for?" Yoosu's voice is soft, a little hoarse, probably because he just woke up. Minkyun swallows hard.

"For bothering you like this. I just..." Minkyun takes a deep breath and curses inwardly when it shudders on the inhale. "The nightmares are back."

Yoosu breathes in sharply through his nose. "Oh." There’s a few seconds of silence, then he says, “Are you- do you want me to come over, or…?”

“No- no, it’s fine,” Minkyun says quickly. “We both have to head out soon, anyways. I’m alright, I’ll be alright, I just-” He has to break off to stifle another sob before finishing, “I just needed to hear you. So I know you’re- you’re okay.” Truthfully, this isn’t the first time these dreams have happened since they had dwindled off weeks after Jooheon had been injured, what seems like ages ago. These new nightmares, the ones where HQ is in flames and all Minkyun can see through the smoke is the bodies of the people he cares about, have been plaguing him since Kwangji’s memories started to return, if only in the form of fragments of sentences and single words.

_Guns and flames. The Orion Project. Death._

“Well, I’m perfectly fine, besides being shit-tired and stressed,” Yoosu says bluntly, jerking Minkyun out of his thoughts. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yes.” _No._ “Thank- thank you, Yoosu.” Minkyun rubs hard at his eyes with his free hand. “I’ll see you soon.”

“See you.”

Minkyun stares long and hard at his phone for a while after he hangs up, then shakes himself and gets out of bed. He doesn’t think he should be too late to work today. Anything could happen when he’s not there. It’s been a lot more unpredictable like that lately.

Honestly, Minkyun hates it.

 

Minkyun finds himself looking for- well, what, he’s not sure. But he does know that he can’t stop staring at Yoosu, watching him from across the room as he jokes with one of the non-traitorous interns, wishing that he could keep Yoosu closer to him at all times.

Yoosu eventually meets Minkyun’s eyes and his vibrant smile dims into something softer, probably recalling this morning. Minkyun really doesn’t want Yoosu to worry about him- in fact, he would rather Yoosu worry about himself- but he also wishes that Yoosu would just come sit by him.

As if reading his mind, Yoosu does walk over, pulling a vacant desk chair over so he can sit as close as possible. Minkyun looks at him, alive and well, color in his cheeks and shine in his eyes, and only thinks about what he is in his dreams- drained, empty, dead and cold.

Minkyun’s eyes fill with tears and he looks away hurriedly. Yoosu sighs.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He doesn’t. “D-Do you want to know?”

“Well, doesn’t really matter, I guess. I just… I feel like I’m not doing enough.” Yoosu rakes a hand through his hair and Minkyun chews his lip, feeling a stab of guilt. “Like I’m… letting you down or something. Not being enough.”

Minkyun’s vision swims when he looks at Yoosu, Yoosu’s face downcast. “You- Yoosu, you’re _alive_. That- That’s enough, that’s more than enough.”

Yoosu doesn’t seem to cheer up any, but he does reach over and curl his fingers around Minkyun’s hand, squeezing slightly. Minkyun squeezes back, eyes returning to the screen where he’s supposed to be making copies of a government mandate of some kind to send to all the agents. Seeing as Yoosu has hold of his right hand, that’s not going to happen right now.

So- “It’s all about what Kwangji says,” Minkyun says quietly, so nobody can overhear. “There’s always fire, and it always ends with someone I love dead. M-More often than not, it… it’s you.”

“I figured that. Are they always the same?”

Minkyun nods. “I just want them to stop, I can’t sleep. It’s- It’s worse than last time, I think… at least last time I could just… stay up and go to sleep for another hour or so near dawn. This time I can’t stop shaking once I wake up and it’s- I just… never get back to sleep.”

“Do you want me to stay the night, see if it helps?” Yoosu asks, running his thumb over the bumps of Minkyun’s knuckles. “Maybe having me there will at least help the aftermath out, yeah?”

Minkyun wants to say no, because that will cause Yoosu trouble of some sort for sure. But, in the end, he simply nods.

Almost surprisingly, Yoosu brings Minkyun’s hand up to his face and kisses the back of it, gentle. Then, he leans in and whispers, “I’d kiss you for real but Minhyuk is riiiiight there.”

Minkyun’s sadness is momentarily replaced with a fluster and Yoosu laughs, mouth lifting in a smile. It makes Minkyun smile, too.

“But, hey,” Yoosu says, patting Minkyun’s thigh. “I’ve got some goddamn donuts to eat, and you’ve got some goddamn shit to do or whatever. I’ll be in the break room if you need me, so no panicking, okay?” Minkyun nods in response, and Yoosu stands, then leans over to kiss Minkyun’s temple. “Love you.”

Minkyun makes some sort of squawking noise and hears Minhyuk’s scandalized gasp from behind them even over the general din of the work room. Yoosu chuckles before he walks away, and Minkyun hurriedly calls, “I love you too!” before Yoosu is out of earshot. Then he melts inwardly because everyone just heard that and he’s now fixed with many curious gazes.

Minkyun is allowed a few moments of peace before Minhyuk calls his name and makes him jump. Minhyuk occupies the seat that Yoosu vacated and leans over, resting his elbows on the armrest of Minkyun’s chair.

“Soooooooo,” Minhyuk says in a sing-song voice, “have you fuuuuuucked?”

“What? No!” Minkyun replies, maybe a little too loud. “No, why would we? I- Wait, I mean, I know why we would, but, uh, I- No! No we haven’t!”

Minhyuk laughs, patting Minkyun’s shoulder. “You better hop on it, then. You know, literally hop on it.”

“Oh my god,” Minkyun mumbles, putting his hands over his face. “Please, don’t.”

“Come on, you know I’m just trying to distract you. I can tell when you’ve had a bad night, Minkyun. Embarrassing the shit out of you always fixes it.” Minhyuk reaches up to ruffle Minkyun’s hair. “Remember, dude, you can call me any time! I’ll provide quality advice and probably an anime reference.”

Minkyun nods softly, smiling as Minhyuk makes his way back to his own desk. The outreach is appreciated beyond measure, really, but Minkyun doesn’t think he’ll ever take him up on it.

Minkyun is able to get at least ten of the reports queued up for the communal printer before a donut is unceremoniously squashed against his nose.

“Ah, shit, sorry,” Yoosu says, leaning over to dust the sugar off. “God dammit.”

Minkyun can’t help but giggle, taking the donut from Yoosu’s hands. “You kinda missed.”

“Guess I did. I couldn’t remember which ones you like, but y’know… if you don’t want it…” Yoosu makes some vague gestures that amount to ‘you can give it to me’.

“I like the raspberry filled ones. This is alright.” Minkyun looks up at him, cheeks warm. “Thank you.”

“Uh, it’s- it’s really no problem, I just- look, you need a fucking donut, dude.” Yoosu covers up his embarrassment quickly, wiping his hands on his pants. “Anyway. I’ll be at my desk, I guess, do you need me to do anything while I’m here?”

“Oh, I dunno…” Minkyun says thoughtfully, looking away for a brief moment. “Another kiss would be nice.”

Yoosu leans over and pecks the tip of Minkyun’s nose in response, cheeks flaring red before he escapes quickly to his desk at the end of the aisle. Minkyun waits until Yoosu is seated and not looking at him before squealing into his hands, then shoving half the donut in his mouth because yes, Yoosu was right. He did need a fucking donut.

 

“So,” Yoosu says after a long while of nothing but waiting for water to boil, “did you hear?”

“Hear what?” Minkyun asks, willing himself not to panic prematurely.

“The government basically took a big shit on us and told us we still have responsibilities. There’s gonna be another one of those peaceful recon missions within the next week or so.” Yoosu sighs, resting his chin in his hand and looking somewhere beyond Minkyun. “I… guess they’re anticipating Liberty dissolving, so they want us to do something useful before we do. Siyoung doesn’t have full details, but he will by this weekend.”

“... Really, who isn’t anticipating it?” Minkyun says after a pause. “The division in charge of moderating Liberty, they’ve probably known for months… it might be a sort of mission we’ve done hundreds of times before but we’re targets, more now than we ever have been.”

“I like to imagine,” Yoosu says slowly, “that Blu has our pictures up on a wall, and there’s like, mustaches drawn on them and shit. It’s comforting to think they have to look at my beautiful face all day. It must really motivate them.”

Minkyun snorts, and Yoosu breaks into a smile. “I’m sure it does. But, has he already assigned agents to this?”

“Yeah, just two. Me, of course, and…” Yoosu pauses, blowing his bangs out of his face. “Jooheon.”

Minkyun nods. “He’s… he’s good at sweet talking.”

“Yeah, but… y’know.”

Minkyun does know. “That’s alright. That just means me and Gunhee get to sit side by side and lose our shit together.”

Yoosu laughs. “True. Many donuts must be supplied.”

Minkyun thinks, while he gets up to dump pasta in the now-boiling pot, that things are better already. Usually, he would sit and check various things on his phone while waiting for leftovers in the microwave to finish, and at some point in the night end up crying because of overwhelming stress. But, Yoosu distracts him with joking criticism on his pasta-pouring skills and kisses pressed to the side of his neck, sweet and gentle and everything Minkyun needs.

And, recently Minkyun has been afraid to go to sleep, afraid of what his dreams will bring him (even though it’s the same every time, there’s really no getting used to it). But, with Yoosu at his side, eating his second helping of shitty mac and cheese, Minkyun feels… settled, somehow. Like he finally has time to breathe.

Minkyun does fall asleep right there, curled up on the couch with Yoosu, and wakes up in his bed. He’s warm for once and his breaths come in smooth and calm instead of panicked. It only takes him a few moments to realize he’s in Yoosu’s arms, face tucked in the crook of his neck.

The sky is lightening outside Minkyun’s window, which indicates that his alarm will be going off any minute. He elects to close his eyes again instead of forcing himself to get up.

 

Looking at Siyoung nowadays is almost painful, dark hollows around his eyes and permanently disheveled hair. He looks like a member of the undead, almost.

And yet, he still has some semblance of energy, slapping folders for Minkyun and Gunhee down on their desks. “We’re talking to a Chinese official!” He announces loudly. “On Friday. This is the single most important information-based mission we will ever have, kids. If this is our last together, it better be a damn good one.”

He leaves before anyone can say much and Minkyun sets about reading through the information supplied to him, seeing that Siyoung’s usually-messy handwriting is even worse as of recent, hands having turned shaky from anxiety. Minkyun noticed when Siyoung was walking past.

“Dude,” Gunhee says, approaching Minkyun. “Can you read like, any of this?”

“Some of it…” Minkyun replies, looking back to the papers in front of him and flipping through them briefly. “I guess it’s all just background information, but… I’m really worried about Siyoung.”

Gunhee nods. “Yeah, he’s- he’s definitely gotten weird. But, uh, he and Hunchul made nice, apparently, so that’s good. At least Siyoung doesn’t have that to deal with anymore.”

“That is good,” Minkyun agrees. “I guess… I guess we’ll just hope for the best, then.”

“Yep. How about you, how are you doing?”

Minkyun shrugs. “I’m alive. Uh… Y-Yoosu has been staying the night more often. It helps me sleep.”

Gunhee is, thankfully, not one of the people who jabs Minkyun in the side and ‘ooooo’s at him whenever he mentions Yoosu. “That’s nice of him. Didn’t really know he was, uh, capable of caring. About anything. Other than donuts, of course.”

“Believe me, the donuts are more important by far," Minkyun says, but he’s entirely joking and Gunhee knows it. “Uh, what about you?”

“Eh. I wanna choke my cousin to death. Nothing new.”

“Understandable. And J-Jooheon?”

“He seems fine. He’s… y’know, he’s really fuckin’ hyped. I’m not, though.” Gunhee sighs. “All the shit I used to harp on him about, about anything and everything being a possibility and all that, it seems more real now. I… I don’t want him to get hurt again.”

“Nobody does,” Minkyun says quietly. “I… I think he’ll be fine. No, I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

“Hope so, dude. Hey, speak of the devil.”

Minkyun follows Gunhee’s line of sight to see Jooheon approaching them, now-fluffy hair bouncing as he walks. He ends up whisking Gunhee away, apparently having something important to talk to him about, and Minkyun takes the opportunity to go back and make some sort of sense of the file he was given.

After giving up (within two minutes), he heads for the break room in search of Yoosu and, instead, finds Changkyun. Minkyun bristles slightly when they make eye contact, Changkyun averting his gaze quickly, but Minkyun takes a deep breath and greets him anyway.

Changkyun just nods in response and watches as Minkyun takes one of the donuts from the box, waiting until Minkyun has turned to leave before he speaks. “I- I heard… I heard you were, uh, h-having some bad dreams. Are… Are you okay?”

Minkyun, admittedly, doesn’t like Changkyun a single bit, but the concern endears him nonetheless. “I… I’m doing alright, thank you.” Minkyun is silent for a moment, then, “H-How about you? Are you alright?”

“Oh, me?” Changkyun asks, seemingly surprised. “I’m… I’m fine, yeah. Stressed, but we all are. Thanks.”

Minkyun nods, waving slightly as he pushes the door open and exits. The interaction was… somewhat surreal, Minkyun having tried his best to just forget that Changkyun had existed in the first place after his big confession. Changkyun has actually helped quite a bit since then, but the fact stands that he’s responsible for all this shit in the first place and Minkyun isn’t eager to be kind to him.

But, Changkyun has the same tiredness clinging to his frame that the rest of them do. He doesn’t deserve the cold shoulder, not entirely.

  
  


Minkyun comes in at his usual time Thursday morning, Yoosu by his side, as he's been staying at Minkyun’s place for the past few nights. Usually, Minhyuk would be at his desk to wiggle his eyebrows suggestively, or Seokwon and Yoonho at theirs to toss out a casual greeting, but today it seems everyone in the room is crowded around the door to upstairs, to where Siyoung’s office is. There's a commotion like someone’s blocking the way while everyone else is trying to get in. Minkyun’s heart rate kicks automatically into something much too fast for comfort.

“What's going on?” Yoosu asks in a raised voice when they walk over to the horde. Minkyun catches onto his hand and holds it tight, disturbed by the anxious expressions he sees on his coworkers’ faces.

It's Hyungwon who answers, peeling away from the middle of the crowd to hiss, “It's Siyoung. He wasn't here when Seo and Yoon came in, and he just got here a little bit ago looking like he saw the devil and clutching his shoulder. We think he's hurt, but he's locked himself in his office and Gunhee isn't letting anyone go up to check on him.”

“Oh.” Yoosu frowns, then walks forward, bringing Minkyun with him, and pushes through several other bodies until he gets to where Gunhee is standing with his back against the door, a hand on the knob and expression strange, mixed.

“Are you going to demand to see him, too?” Gunhee sighs, eyes narrowing. “Practically everyone has. He doesn't need visitors right now, I- you- just trust me on this.”

“Care to elaborate?” Yoosu asks, raising an eyebrow. Gunhee’s mouth sets, his gaze holding steady with Yoosu’s. Minkyun thinks that he's trying to seem intimidating with how he's standing and the square of his shoulders, but the fact that Yoosu has some height on him doesn't quite make the whole thing work out in Gunhee’s favor. Yoosu is more stubborn in that thick-skulled way of his than Gunhee will ever be, and it's no real surprise when Gunhee exhales heavily a few long moments afterwards.

“He doesn't want anyone to worry—not that much, I mean. He- We ran into him on the way in and he said he was attacked but he's alright and he just needs some time, but-” He makes a vague motion at the people still gathered around, some of them listening to what he's saying and some whispering amongst themselves. Minkyun realizes with a start that Changkyun is nowhere to be found.

“ _Attacked?_ ” Yoosu says incredulously. His face twists in thought. “You think it's Blu? They said they were gonna kill him, didn't they?”

Minkyun winces at the reminder, at the memory of Changkyun spilling out all the details of the Orion Project he knew. If this was the attempt on the director’s life… Minkyun honestly hopes it was, as bad as it sounds. It didn't _work_ , after all.

Gunhee hesitates before he nods, eyes downcast. “He didn’t say much, but. I think it was Blu, there’s no one else it could be.” He opens his mouth to say something then closes it, eyebrows furrowing. “I… Joo and Changkyun are upstairs. They’re just up there, keeping an eye… making sure Siyoung doesn’t do anything... drastic.”

Minkyun jolts. “What do you mean, drastic?”

Gunhee lowers his voice so Minkyun has to strain to hear, then says, “He just hasn’t been all that… stable, especially since, you know, Hunchul and all. I don’t _think_ he’d do anything, but we’re just- we can’t afford to risk losing him.”

It shakes Minkyun to the core, how Gunhee’s accepted the fact that their director, the only director almost all of them have ever known, is starting to lose himself. Minkyun doesn’t want to start believing it, not yet.

Maybe after the mission tomorrow. He’ll give himself until then.

  
  


Most everyone disperses back to their desks when Jooheon and Changkyun come back downstairs, reassuring them that Siyoung is fine and they don’t need to worry. Of course, everyone still does worry, but that’s what’s expected.

Minhyuk gathers the crew at his and Kihyun’s desks, shoving papers out of the way to make more room. The stack of papers is noticeably smaller nowadays. Minkyun hates thinking of the implications of that.

“Okay, you three, spill,” Minhyuk says, looking pointedly at Gunhee, Jooheon, and Changkyun in turn. “What the hell happened? Like, details, give me details.”

Jooheon groans. “I told you, we barely know, just that Siyoung was attacked when he left home, but he managed to take the guy down. And no, I don’t know how, or what he did afterwards,” he adds when Minhyuk opens his mouth again. “I would say ask Siyoung, but I don’t think he needs anyone nagging him right now.”

“He was shaking when he came in,” Wonho says, taking his arm off of Hyungwon’s shoulders and setting his hands on the desk. “Something must have fucked him up bad, are you really telling me you have no idea what?”

“Or maybe everything’s just gotten to him,” Gunhee snaps. “He has a lot of things on his mind, it’s no surprise that he’s shaken up after a fucking assassination attempt.”

Minkyun sees Changkyun wince out of the corner of his eye, as if he’s guilty of this particular act when he obviously isn’t. He figures the kid still feels like he has ties with Blu that make this his fault, which he kind of does, but not willingly, not secretly. As much as Minkyun still doesn’t like him, he thinks he can stop being so guilty all the time at this point. It’s been a while, after all.

It’s Yoonho who speaks up next, voice soft as he holds onto Seokwon’s hand with one of his and with the other clings to Kwangji, who sits silent and still, like his mind is somewhere completely different. “Are you- is the mission tomorrow still a go, then?”

“Of course it is,” Jooheon says sharply. “This is probably our last one, we have to go out strong.” His hands curl into fists in his lap, and Gunhee reaches over to take them in his. No one says a word about it. “If Liberty is going to pieces, we might as well go standing tall. All of us-” He breaks off, glances at Changkyun. Changkyun just nods and looks down, ducking his head. “ _Most_ of us have worked so long for this Liberty shit that it’d be absolutely stupid for us not to.”

A general murmur of agreement passes through the gathered people. Minkyun feels a tightness in his chest, glancing over at Yoosu. Yoosu meets his eyes and nods. He realizes it too, the pressure it puts on the people carrying out this mission. Yoosu smiles ever so slightly and mouths something that Minkyun thinks is, “We’ll be alright.”

Minkyun hopes he's right.

  
  
  


Minkyun doesn't usually initiate things, but tonight he needs Yoosu to remind him that they're still here and they're still okay, to try to calm his nerves before the day to follow. He comes up behind Yoosu while the latter is washing dishes at the sink and hooks his chin over his shoulder, murmuring, “Can you kiss me?”

Yoosu loads the last plate into the dishwasher and wipes his hands on his pants before turning around to face Minkyun, expression soft. “Yes, I can,” he replies, a hand coming up to cup Minkyun’s cheek. Minkyun flushes at the contact, as if it's the first time, though it hardly is. “Is there a reason you're asking? Not that I mind, of course.”

“I don't know—well, no, I do, kind of, but- I just-” Minkyun bites his lower lip and stares beseechingly at Yoosu, too embarrassed and unable to explain, until Yoosu shakes his head and smiles.

“It's fine.” His hand slides down the side of Minkyun’s face to curl under his chin and tip his face back slightly, carefully, like he's afraid Minkyun will break if he goes too fast. Normally, Minkyun would appreciate the unhurried pace, but right now he's desperate for the reassurance Yoosu’s lips on his brings. He tugs lightly at Yoosu’s shirt and leans in to kiss him, and Yoosu seems startled by it. It only takes him a heartbeat or two, though, to reciprocate, kissing back with a vigor new to them. Minkyun thinks that maybe he knows he needs distracting.

It's definitely difficult to worry about tomorrow when Yoosu presses their bodies close and deepens the kiss, a hand threading through Minkyun’s hair. His other hand drops to the small of Minkyun’s back, pressing softly. Suddenly, Minkyun starts to feel like his blood is catching fire.

“Yoosu,” he says, breaking the kiss. “I don't- can we-”

“Do you want me stop?” Yoosu asks immediately, making to move away, but Minkyun shakes his head and catches at his shoulders to keep him close.

“No, no, I just- can we take it slow?” He can feel his cheeks turning bright crimson, and he's sure Yoosu can see it. God, this is _embarrassing._

“Whatever you want,” Yoosu says. Minkyun thinks he might cry at the honest, unfiltered affection in Yoosu’s voice. “We can take this as slow as you want.” He pauses, looks around them, then adds, “Maybe we should get out of the kitchen.”

“Y-yeah,” Minkyun agrees. Yoosu hums and takes Minkyun’s hand to lead him out of the kitchen, and though Minkyun feels like he should be vaguely insulted that Yoosu finds it necessary to lead him anywhere, right now he's only thankful for the contact.

Minkyun’s room is a mess and his bed is unmade, but he could hardly care with Yoosu peppering kisses all over his face as he backs them into the room.

It's only when Yoosu gently pushes him back so he's sitting on the side of the bed and nudges between his legs to place his hands on his waist that Minkyun truly realizes that _oh. This is happening._  
There's a soft press of Yoosu's lips against Minkyun's jaw, before he finds Minkyun's mouth and kisses him, soft and chaste. Minkyun makes a quiet whimpering sound before he can stop himself.

“Do you want,” Yoosu starts, but it looks like he's not even sure what to ask.

“Yes,” Minkyun says in response to the unfinished question. “Anything, just- kiss me again, please.”

Yoosu smiles, eyes crinkling, and obliges.

Minkyun just needs whatever Yoosu can give him to distract him until tomorrow. Yoosu, of course, doesn't fail him.

 

Siyoung has hollows beneath his eyes and a thick bandage on his shoulder. He hovers behind the surveillance agents, watchful, nodding when Gunhee or Minkyun turns to toss him a bit of information.

Gunhee is in charge of dutifully typing away at a transcript, fingers far faster on the keyboard than Minkyun. Minkyun is in charge of… well, mostly just listening. He sometimes feels rather useless, but Yoosu is not, so Minkyun is content.

Yoosu is currently speaking in smooth Mandarin to their target, Zhu Yunlong, the son of a Chinese official. He was sent in his father’s place, which actually worked out just fine, because they suspect that Yunlong’s uncle is working for Blu and they want to find out.

The problem is that Minkyun can’t understand Mandarin worth a shit. Yunlong is important enough that there is a translator tagging along with him, so the information that Minkyun manages to chuck out is all secondhand.

Minkyun makes sure that his mic is off before he whines, “I feel so useless right now.”

“Not everyone can be proficient in Mandarin,” Siyoung tells him, patting the top of his head. “You’re doing plenty, just keep watching those security feeds. Keep an eye out for anything suspicious.”

Minkyun nods, doing as he’s told. Minutes drag on when you have nothing to do but listen to your boyfriend talk to someone in a language you can’t understand.

Eventually, Yunlong says something in a terse whisper and the translator’s face pales slightly, which causes both Minkyun and Gunhee to perk up. Minkyun leans a little closer to his monitor, as does Siyoung, and then-

“You cannot tell anyone about this, but my father has been funding the Blu Corporation,” the translator says in quiet Korean, seemingly reluctant to share this information. Yunlong waits until she’s finished before speaking more, and the translator says, “He is pulling their funds. They will do something drastic that he doesn’t want to be associated with.”

Jooheon has remained quiet most of the time beyond polite small talk, but this time he pipes up. “Not meaning to pry, but Mr. Zhu, do you know what drastic thing they’re going to do?”

The translator feeds the question back to Yunlong in Mandarin, and Yunlong sucks in a breath, saying something lowly. The translation: “They are going to kill the director of Liberty.”

Minkyun sucks in a breath, feeling tears rise to his eyes, and he turns his head to look at Siyoung. Siyoung shows no visible change of emotion, standing upright and crossing his arms. He winces like it hurts to do so.

Minkyun wipes his eyes before the tears fall and turns his attention back to the screen, but Yunlong is leaving with hurried goodbyes and thank yous. He feels a spike of panic, thinking that maybe something has happened, but all is clear on the cams when he clicks around to make sure. No shooters, no bombs, nobody with the Blu crest on their uniforms.

Jooheon and Yoosu are back at HQ within the hour, Yoosu muttering about shitty hotels and banquets when Minkyun rushes up to him. Yoosu doesn’t wait for Minkyun to initiate, taking Minkyun’s face in his hands and kissing him briefly.

Minkyun looks over and sees that Jooheon has done the same to Gunhee, but Gunhee seems notably less flustered over it, elbowing Jooheon in the ribs and telling him he did a good job. Minkyun turns to tell Yoosu the same, but Yoosu is gone, heading towards the front door.

Minkyun hurries after him with a yell of Yoosu’s name, flinching against the cool breeze that meets his skin once he’s outside. He is rightly terrified when he sees tears in Yoosu’s eyes.

“Oh, no, what’s wrong?” Minkyun asks, wiping Yoosu’s eyes with the heels of his hands before the tears even fall.

Yoosu shakes his head. “I want some time alone, Minkyun, I- I’ll tell you later, okay? Later.” When Minkyun himself wells up, Yoosu takes his hands in his and kisses his knuckles fondly. “I love you, don’t worry. Like I said, I’ll tell you later. Go inside.”

Minkyun nods, still tearful, pulling his hands from Yoosu’s grasp and going back inside. Gunhee is there, giving Minkyun a questioning look. Minkyun shrugs, turning his hands up.

Later does come, along with mugs of hot chocolate and a shared blanket. Minkyun wasn’t intending to press the matter, so Yoosu eventually speaks up himself.

“I’m so fucking scared,” Yoosu says, voice echoing into his half-empty cup. “They’re going to kill Siyoung. What if they don’t stop there? Just because the director is dead doesn’t mean the organization is, what if they kill us too? I’m so scared.”

“I’m scared too,” Minkyun whispers, setting his mug down on the coffee table. “I’m scared and there’s nothing I can do about it, I- I feel so useless, all the time, about everything, I can’t do anything to help anyone around Liberty. I hate it.”

“I know, and it fucking sucks because like, neither one of us are useless, right? But you can’t help but feel that way.” Yoosu sighs, downing the rest of his cocoa and putting the empty mug on the table. “Even if they don’t kill us, what does that mean for all of us? What does that mean for me and you? What would we do if Liberty collapses?”

“I don’t know,” Minkyun says, laying his head over on Yoosu’s shoulder. “I don’t know, and that’s the worst part. I’m so scared.”

Yoosu simply nods, putting an arm around Minkyun’s shoulders. Minkyun snuggles against his side, sighing slightly.

Minkyun is scared, but he is not alone, and that makes it a little bit better.

 

They are all offered a slice of normalcy when Hunchul brings them pizza. It’s just like the old days when Hunchul brought them all lunch every Saturday, because he gets paid on Friday. Except now, it’s a Monday and Minkyun knows that Hunchul had to quit his job after he was abducted. It brings a certain sort of melancholy to the pepperoni and cheese.

Siyoung comes down to partake and the gentle way that Hunchul embraces him and kisses his temple almost brings Minkyun to tears. Minkyun knows that Siyoung needs nothing more than a strong pillar, someone to be there for him, and Hunchul is being that for him despite their earlier fights. It’s already been some months since that, but it takes quite a lot of time to get over something like that, Minkyun imagines.

Even so, Hunchul sits Siyoung in his lap and holds him tight while Hyungwon regales him with tales of Minhyuk’s gossiping and Wonho’s bedroom antics. Minkyun watches Hunchul from across the room and notices the same sort of tiredness sitting behind his eyes as he sees in Siyoung’s own gaze. It’s heart wrenching.

Knowing that, in the near future, this sort of normalcy may never again be achieved- it’s something Minkyun can barely handle the thought of. No matter what happens, he may never see Siyoung smile again, he may never sit in this room again, he may never eat greasy six-dollar pizza and laugh about something Jooheon’s saying ever again. It burns in his chest and prevents his pizza from sitting well on his stomach.

Hunchul leaves after a couple hours and kisses Siyoung full on the mouth, irregarding those around them. Nobody tosses the same joking ridicule that most other couples around here get because they all know that what Siyoung deals with is beyond them (and so is what Hunchul does for him). Siyoung looks a measure more put together after Hunchul’s visit.

Minkyun watches as Siyoung heads towards the stairwell, then calls for him. Siyoung stops and looks over his shoulder as Minkyun hurries over to him, then wraps his arms around him. Siyoung stiffens, but Minkyun holds him fast.

Before he knows it, another pair of arms wraps around them both, and Minkyun jumps slightly and turns his head to see that it’s Gunhee. Jooheon isn’t far behind, and then Hyungwon, and then all the rest, one by one.

It gets very crowded and toasty towards the middle but instead of complaining about it, Siyoung starts crying.

“Thank you so much,” Minkyun says, loud enough so that everyone can hear it. “You’ve done so, so much for us, Siyoung, for so long. We love you.”

There are echoes of agreement and Siyoung buries his face into Minkyun’s shoulder, remaining like that even as people begin to break away with teary eyes and murmured encouragement directed at Siyoung. Minkyun, of course, cries as well, resting his face against the top of Siyoung’s head.

“You guys,” Siyoung says once he’s broken away himself, wiping at his eyes, “are the fucking worst. I cry enough as it is, don’t make it worse.” There is scattered laughter and it brings a broad smile to Siyoung’s face. “But, I love you all too, you huge fucking saps. You’re the best goddamn group of agents I could have ever asked for. Thank you so much.”

There is a unanimous, “Thank you,” offered up from the crowd, and more tears fall from Siyoung’s eyes. He is, no doubt, having similar thoughts to Minkyun earlier, thoughts that he may soon be leaving all this behind in one way or another.

Minkyun hopes not.

 

Things are okay. Minkyun is sorting through documents and general-issue government mandates, everyone else is taking care of their own duties ranging from printer maintenance to donut devouring, everyone is safe and relatively content at their desks.

And then things are not.

First, it is smoke, then it is flames, and then Yoonho is screaming and people are running and there is one gunshot, then two.

Minkyun’s dreams. It is just like Minkyun’s dreams.

People toting guns and bearing the Blu crest upon their shirts waltz right in, one of them pushing the body of an intern aside with his foot. Minkyun cannot breathe.

“I really didn’t want to kill anyone just yet,” the man heading the group says, voice deep and dark. “But, I also really didn’t want anyone to run.”

Minkyun needs to find Yoosu. He goes to move, eyes scanning the crowd of people frozen in place, but he hears the click of a gun cocking and looks back to the group of Blu members. He finds that there is a gun pointed at him.

“Ah, ah, no moving around,” the man says, gun lowering when Minkyun settles back into his previous position, heartbeat pounding in his ears. “Where is that lovely director of yours? I’d like to speak with him. Someone! Go find him.”

A couple of the Blu members split off and head upstairs immediately, quickly returning with Siyoung. Siyoung does not struggle, but he does sneer at the man as he’s shoved past him.

“Of course it’s you,” Siyoung spits, pointedly standing between them and his agents. “What’s your fucking name? _Mino_?”

“Surprised you remember. But, yes. Hello, dearest Siyoung.”

Minkyun needs to find Yoosu.

“What the hell do you want?” Siyoung asks, even though he- everyone here- already knows.

“Surely you know by now, between the messages and the two kidnappings.” Mino says, voice irritatingly condescending. “The Orion Project, designed- well, not perfectly, but designed to take Liberty down. Your disgrace of an organization is going to be gone after this, dissolved because of you. Nobody will know we were here.”

Siyoung laughs, causing Mino to arch an eyebrow in question. “If any one of us disappears, the government will know it was you. If I turn up dead, they can and will catch you in your shit. What would that be, hm? Murder, kidnapping, uh, apparently arson? Can you get someone to put that out, please?”

“Aloof in the face of death, I like that.” Mino says, and the tone in his voice is chilling. Minkyun wants to cry, but the tears won’t come out. “But, none of that will happen, because the only people that could put us away will be dead within the next few weeks. We’re starting with you, then we’re going bigger. Better. A revolution is brewing and it’s going to succeed. And you’re not going to fucking stop us.”

“Fuck off,” Siyoung snarls. Mino smiles.

“Everyone,” Mino says, addressing the room at large. “I’m going to give you some flash drives with your names on them. You’re going to put the documents on your computers on them, and then we’re going to wipe your archives. If anyone tries any funny business, they’ll be dead. Got it?”

There is a nervous sort of forced agreement that sweeps across the room, and Mino smiles wider. “Good.”

Minkyun barely registers when he is handed a flash drive, with his name printed in bold letters on the label on the side. He feels numb as he walks to his desk, tensing as a Blu agent walks behind him, peering at him curiously as he types in his password and inserts the flash drive. Once the agent has moved on, Minkyun gazes down the aisle and sees Yoosu, safe, sound, breathing. He almost sobs with relief.

He can hear someone, an intern, some desks down crying, and there's a name mixed in with the sobs that he only vaguely recognizes as the name of one of the interns that had transferred from a foreign communications branch of a Chinese organization much like Liberty—Tian Shuchen or something. He remembers seeing him and the intern five desks down, a boy named Yongju, in some questionable situations in the break room—and he also remembers seeing the face of that Chinese intern being turned into the ground as Mino walked in.

_At least it wasn't Yoosu,_ he thinks, then feels guilty for thinking that. He glances back down the aisle, watching as Yoosu, stone-faced, clicks away with his mouse, takes a deep breath in an attempt to steady himself— _Yoosu is okay, they're okay, for now at least_ —and turns his attention to his computer.

He doesn't pause until he comes to the document about Changkyun. Gunhee has the primary one on his computer, but Minkyun has a backup copy, in case something was to happen to Gunhee’s laptop (as it has not always been the most secure), and it is this document that Minkyun is hesitant to transfer.

He doesn't know how Blu would react, finding out that their undercover agent has been found out for months, but he knows it would not turn out well for Changkyun, and, well—the kid doesn't deserve that. Minkyun deletes the file, then glances around to make sure no one saw him do so.

What he does see is Changkyun standing unharried in the middle of the room, stiff-shouldered, staring straight ahead, as Mino approaches him. Minkyun has only heard about the head of the Orion Project once from Gunhee in the break room, and he can only imagine the fury Gunhee must be feeling right now at his cousin, with his sleek suit and slicked back hair and shining shoes.

“Well, Changkyun,” Mino says, loud enough for most everyone in the room to hear. “All your hard work’s paid off, now, hasn't it?”

Changkyun doesn't meet Mino’s eyes. Mino raises a brow quizzically.

“I would think you'd be more excited about it. If you returned, you'd be shooting up the ranks, you know.”

Minkyun’s blood runs cold at Mino’s tone, at the _if_ in his words. Something's about to happen, and it's definitely not going to be in Changkyun’s favor. The whole room seems to know it, because it feels like everyone, Blu and Liberty agents alike, is holding their breath, watching what is going down.

“The thing is, though, Changkyun,” Mino continues, drawing his gun, “as helpful as you were for this project, you're not needed anymore.”

Minkyun sees Changkyun’s eyes widen as he realizes what Mino is saying, sees the fear in his eyes turn to terror. Out of the corner of his eye, Minkyun sees Gunhee reach for something in his desk, unnoticed by the Blu agents.

“See, things are going fine at headquarters without you. I'm sure your father would love to have you back so he could give you a pat on the back and a promotion, but if that was the case, my position would be in danger now, wouldn't it? The head of intel’s son back from a wildly successful undercover mission—they'd want to make you someone important.” Mino smiles in that way that makes Minkyun want to throw something at him. “You won't _really_ be missed, though, let me tell you. You're still just a pawn, and your turn is over.”

Changkyun is frozen in place, staring in shock as Mino raises his gun. Everything seems like it's in slow motion, and there's nothing Minkyun can do as he watches Mino point the gun straight at Changkyun’s head, and then—

Two things happen at once. Gunhee bolts up from his seat, holding a handgun, and fires a shot at the Blu agent closest to him. The agent goes down with a yell. At the same time, in the split second of confusion, Siyoung breaks away from the two agents standing guard next to him and runs straight for Mino and Changkyun. Minkyun’s heart stops.

Mino doesn't look away from Changkyun even as several more of Liberty’s people rise with weapons raised. He snarls something Minkyun can’t hear over the erupting chaos, then pulls the trigger. Minkyun looks away.

There's a gasp, and a broken, “Oh, _no_ ,” from someone nearby. Gunhee’s voice roars, “Song Mino, face me, you fucking _bastard!_ ”

Minkyun forces himself to look back at the center of the room. First he is confused, then he is horrified when he realizes why Changkyun is still standing unharmed.

Siyoung is crumpled on the floor, his glasses askew, and there is blood, staining the front of his shirt, soaking into the carpet.

_Oh, no, no, no_ , Minkyun thinks. _Please, no_.

Liberty’s agents are rising in the smoke, a tension in the room reminiscent of a cornered animal fighting for its life, and there is the need for vengeance now, too, because their director is—Minkyun’s heart wrenches, but he is numb—dying, bleeding out on the floor in their own HQ.

Someone yells a profanity at the Blu agents, followed by another voice calling out a challenge, and suddenly the room has dissolved into a firefight. Minkyun, numb to his core, hurriedly scrambles through his desk drawer for his gun and ducks under the table, trying to collect his thoughts.

The words _Siyoung is dead_ come to his mind, but he pushes them down. He can’t think about that, not when the lives of every single other person in this room, every person here he knows and cares for, are in danger.

He glances out, sees Gunhee, his face drawn with anger, pushing past a pair of interns running for the exit, hears him shouting, “Don’t fucking touch Song Mino, he’s _mine_.” He seems to spot his cousin and heads for the stairs, keeping himself low to avoid the shots going off around him.

Minkyun feels panic rising as he searches the room for Yoosu and doesn’t find him. He sees Yoonho, Kwangji, and Seokwon taking cover under their desks; Hyungwon and Wonho back to back with their guns raised; Minhyuk tackling a Blu agent to the floor away from Kihyun; the intern Yongju fighting his way to the entrance (and to the body of the intern that had been shot) with fire in his eyes, but-- no Yoosu.

It occurs to Minkyun that someone should do something about the fire, wherever it is, before it spreads. He knows there’s a fire alarm by the entrance, and he’s a little surprised no one’s pulled it yet to activate the sprinklers, but, seeing as they’re currently fighting for their lives, he can understand that everyone’s somewhat occupied.

He forces himself to stand, even though his legs are shaking so hard he can barely keep himself upright. It seems Blu underestimated what Liberty could manage, because a good portion of the enemy agents have already fallen, most of the rest being slowly backed up into a corner. Blu may have had the advantage of surprise and preparation, but the members of Liberty have the desperation to survive and the rage to avenge their fallen director behind them.

Minkyun takes a deep breath, the way Yoosu always tells him to, and sprints for the entrance. The intern Yongju isn’t there anymore, and neither is the body of Tian Shuchen, but what is there is the fire alarm, which Minkyun pulls with arms that still feel impossibly weak. He casts another look around for Yoosu, then ducks into the stairway to the upstairs to catch his breath.

The hiss of sprinklers and a fresh wave of smoke tells him the fire is going to be taken care of, but before Minkyun can be relieved, there’s a gunshot upstairs and indistinguishable voices yelling, and Minkyun suddenly remembers that Gunhee had followed his cousin up.

He’s running up the stairs almost before he realizes it, until he reaches the door to Siyoung’s office, half-open, and hears Gunhee’s voice coming from inside. He stops just outside and crouches, listening intently.

“You’re done for, Mino, fucking give up already,” Gunhee is snarling. “You’ve got murder charges on you, now, too - and the law won’t care how much power you had in Blu when they throw you in jail.”

“I’ve told you before, prison can’t do a damn thing to me,” Mino spits. His voice is completely different from the cool, calculated tone it had been earlier. It’s bitter and tense, a string about to snap. “And it won’t matter to you, anyways. I said I’d slit your fucking throat, and I will.”

Minkyun risks a glance into the room. Mino is standing in the far corner, his expression dark, a wild hatred in it that doesn’t seem quite sane, his gun at his side - he must have run out of ammo in the thing. Gunhee’s back is to Minkyun, his shoulders stiff with anger. Minkyun can only imagine the look on his face.

“Slit my throat, when I’m the one with the loaded weapon,” Gunhee says. “How the fuck do you plan to do that, Song Mino?”

“You won’t shoot me,” Mino replies, voice suddenly chillingly quiet. “I know you won’t. You were always too soft. Too soft to be a field agent, too soft to shoot to kill.” He takes a step forward, and though Gunhee tenses, he doesn’t make a move to aim his weapon. Mino raises an eyebrow, a smile making its way onto his lips. “This is why I am the director of the biggest project Blu has ever undertaken while you’ve been a fucking pawn for all the years you’ve been here. You’re too _weak_.”

There’s a flash of cold metal as Mino pulls something out of a sheath on his belt and charges at Gunhee. Gunhee’s gun raises. Minkyun gasps audibly and looks away.

The gunshot has Minkyun’s ears ringing. He hears cursing, and realizes it’s Mino. He slowly looks back; Mino is on the floor, clutching at his shoulder, and Gunhee is standing over him, gun pointed at his chest. Mino looks up at his cousin and grins mirthlessly.

“Going to prove me wrong, now? Going to kill your own family?” he asks, goads. “Going to stand at my casket pretending you weren’t the one who killed me while your auntie cries and wonders why she didn’t see her son’s death coming?” His head falls back to hit the floor. “Go ahead, cousin. Shoot me again. Fucking kill me and be done with it.”

“You’re insane,” Gunhee breathes, so Minkyun barely hears it. “Blu’s gotten into your head and you're fucking _insane_.”

“Blu?” Mino repeats. He laughs, and the mirthless, strained sound chills Minkyun to the bone. “Blu only ever gave me a _chance_. I would be stuck in a deadbeat job somewhere, with a deadbeat life and a deadbeat home, if it weren't for Blu. You know what I wanted to be when I was a kid, Gun?”

“Don't call me that,” Gunhee snaps.

“I used to, back when we were, what, ten years old? That time your mother brought you to our house and we messed around on the piano, and you sprained your pinkie. We all just called you Gun back then.” Mino laughs again. It's quieter, weaker. “Back then, I wanted to be a performer. I wanted to be on stage and- a little later on, I decided I wanted to be a rapper.” He slaps a hand over his face. “Obviously, something went wrong. And Blu,” he adds, “picked me up afterwards.”

Gunhee is silent. Minkyun can only imagine how his eyes just look right now, staring down at his bleeding, smiling cousin. Mino’s chest rises and falls in a sigh.

“Are you going to kill me or not?”

Minkyun hears footsteps coming up the stairs, until the door at the end of the hall bursts open to reveal Jooheon, hair soaked and clothes marked with soot. He stumbles towards Siyoung’s office with his gun out and runs in without a glance, barely seeming to notice Minkyun.

“Gunhee, _shit_ ,” Jooheon gasps. “What- are you okay?”

“He's fine,” Mino sneers. “Just shot his cousin in the shoulder but can't finish the deed, is all.”

“I didn't ask you, bitch,” Jooheon replies. He continues to Gunhee in a gentler voice, “What are you going to do with him?”

A long pause, then Gunhee says, “I guess we’ll turn him into the police or something like that. I won't send him back to Blu, he won't get what he deserves there.”

Mino’s laugh rises again. “I'd get worse than the law could ever give me back at Blu, and you know that, don't you? You're still so soft, cousin.”

“Do you ever fucking shut up?” Jooheon mutters.

Minkyun decides there's not much more to be heard here. He stands up, shakes himself, then makes his way back downstairs. He needs to know Yoosu is okay.

  
  


Things downstairs are better than what Minkyun expected, but worse than he ever wanted.

Luckily, the fire didn't make it far into the main room, leaving only faint scorch marks by the entrance. The sprinklers, however, damaged a lot of equipment that Minkyun doubts the government will pay to replace or repair, and everyone is drenched.

There are people slumped in desk chairs in varying states of pain, other people flitting this way and that with damp towels, gauze, all sorts of first aid Minkyun barely remembers there being in HQ. He's glad they're here. He searches the room for a familiar face, and spots Minhyuk seated on a desk nearby, cradling his wrist and wincing.

Minkyun calls his name and hurries over, asking, “Are you okay? I was upstairs, what happened?”

Minhyuk manages a grin, reaching out and patting the top of Minkyun’s head with his uninjured hand. “We took those dickbags down. Broke my wrist punching a guy in the face. I'm fine—the other dude, not so much.” He looks to his left to where Kihyun is sitting with his knees drawn up to his chest on one of the other desks, head bowed, looking like he's asleep, and adds, “And Kihyunnie’s alright, too. We’re okay.”

The way he says _we_ makes Minkyun smile a little. “That's good. Have you- do you know where Yoosu is?”

Minhyuk’s nose scrunches up as he thinks. “Check the break room. They started setting up a first aid station there. He might be there—I know Hyungwon and Wonho are over there. And, uh.” His voice grows soft when he says, “If you can't find him anywhere else… They're moving all the bodies to the back rooms.”

Minkyun’s heart drops into his stomach. “Okay,” he chokes out. “Thank you.”

“He's probably fine,” Minhyuk calls after him as Minkyun walks away. “Yoosu’s a tough guy, I'm sure he made it just fine.”

Minkyun is not so sure, but God does he hope Minhyuk is right.

Minkyun has to take several long moments to steel himself, preparing for the worst even though he has faith that Yoosu is fine. He heads towards the door to the break room, heart stuttering at blood spatter on the window of the door, a hole through the glass. Someone standing there must have been shot.

Minkyun tries to keep himself from thinking about it, because that’s not what he’s here for. He’s here to look for his friend, his boyfriend, his beginning and end. So, he takes a deep breath and opens the door.

There are less people in the room than Minkyun would have imagined, which is both wonderful and terrible. The implication that not many people are injured is good, but there is further meaning that most injuries were not treatable in the way that this first aid station can provide.

Minkyun swallows hard. He easily locates Hyungwon and Wonho, Hyungwon sitting in the corner with an ice pack to his forehead and Wonho standing by the counter, suturing a laceration on a female intern’s arm. She hisses with every stitch, gripping Wonho’s shoulder tightly. Minkyun feels bad for her.

“Hey,” Hyungwon says faintly when he notices Minkyun, half-waving.

“H-Hey,” Minkyun returns, voice cracking. “Are- Are you alright?”

“Concussion,” Wonho provides.

“Yep.” Hyungwon agrees. “Let me guess, you’re looking for Yoosu, right?”

Minkyun nods. “Yeah, I was-” He is cut off by a gunshot, sounding both far away and all too close. Everyone in the room jumps, some gasping, and Minkyun feels tears prick at his eyes for the umpteenth time today.

“What the hell was that?” The female intern questions, looking up to the ceiling as if it holds the answers she seeks.

“Gunhee,” Minkyun whispers.

“I’ll check it out,” Wonho says, waving Minkyun away. “If something happened, you don’t- you don’t need to see it. Go find Yoosu.”

Minkyun nods, again trying to swallow down the lump in his throat as Wonho finishes with the intern’s wound and then leaves to check out the situation upstairs. The thing is, the next stop is the back rooms, where they keep cleaning supplies and rows of filing cabinets and other miscellaneous stuff- and also the current home of the deceased of Liberty. If Minkyun finds Yoosu there, he will not be able to take it.

Yet, he forces a smile for Hyungwon and then leaves, heading down the dark hall still filled with the smell of smoke. It’s not that hard to locate the large storage room where they’ve decided to set up their morgue, and it’s not just dead people who occupy the room- it is those who are fatally wounded, those trying to save them, and those who are mourning.

Again, Minkyun finds the agent from before, Yongju, sitting beside a body. Minkyun cannot clearly see the face, but he knows that it is Shuchen. Minkyun imagines himself in that position and cannot stop his tears.

But, this room does not contain Yoosu. None of the bodies lying in even rows bear Yoosu’s soft cheeks and pretty skin, none of them are wearing Yoosu’s hoodie, none of them are wearing the matching bracelets that Yoosu and Minkyun bought for their official one month anniversary. It does little to soothe him.

So, Minkyun checks the next room. There are more alive people here, potentially the emotionally traumatized, crying into their hands and staring blankly at the wall. Some have bandages up their arms, others are missing fingers, and others are covered in blood that is not their own. Still, no Yoosu.

Minkyun grows concerned, more than anything, because while he was afraid he would find Yoosu here, he is more afraid that Yoosu left, or was taken by Blu agents that managed to escape, or anything else potentially more horrible than death itself.

Minkyun finds more familiar faces in the large filing room, used for sorting folders frequently accessed in comparison with the archives for paperwork and past cases, which are in the basement. These faces were in Minkyun’s graduating intern group, they are people he works with every day, and they are gaunt and pale and bloody. He does not know how much more he can take-

“Minkyun,” someone says to his left, and he looks, hopeful. But, it is not Yoosu, instead one of the agents he joined Liberty with- Minwoo, his name is Minwoo. “I’m so glad you’re _alive_ ,” Minwoo practically cries, rising carefully from his place sitting against a filing cabinet and wrapping his arms around Minkyun delicately. Minwoo reeks of smoke and a faint rusty smell (rust from the cabinets or blood, Minkyun can’t tell), but it feels so, so nice to just be hugged, especially after the day he’s had.

Minkyun tentatively puts his arms around Minwoo’s torso, patting his back. Minkyun dwells on Minwoo’s words a little too long, envisioning the people he must have seen killed right before his eyes today. Maybe they were people Minkyun knew, maybe it was Minwoo’s fiance Donghyun, or maybe it was his best friend Jeongmin. Maybe Minwoo saw Siyoung die.

Minkyun ends up crying, again, but squashes it down in favor of asking, “Do you know where Yoosu is?”

“Oh, y-yeah, I think so.” Minwoo wipes away his own tears and gently leads Minkyun into the room opposite this one, filled with less stuff and less bodies.

And- there he is. Minkyun’s heart drops, taking in Yoosu’s pale face and the blood staining his cheeks, his hair, his front drenched in the stuff.

But, as Minkyun watches, he sees that Yoosu’s chest is shuddering, pulling in shaky breaths. He can’t help but let out a sob, falling to the floor and sliding over to where Yoosu lays.

“Hey.”

Minkyun looks up, at a man sitting nearby. “Wh- What?”

“Don’t move him,” the man says, not really looking at Minkyun, rather beyond him. “He’s- his shoulder is fucked. If you move him, it’ll- he’ll hurt. And it might ruin his shoulder more. Be careful.”

Minkyun quickly looks back down and locates the hurt shoulder. Whoever treated it cut the left sleeve to Yoosu’s hoodie away, and Minkyun can see the thick, blood-stained bandage around Yoosu’s shoulder and chest. There is dried blood on Yoosu’s arm and on the floor beneath him.

“To be honest, he needs to go to a hospital,” the man continues. “But, it’ll be a while yet before we can do anything about that. That’s why I’m praying.”

Praying sounds good to Minkyun right about now, as he looks at the peaceful, red-spattered face of his love. There is still a chance he could die. Minkyun doesn’t want to think about it.

Minkyun doesn’t know how long he sits there, but he is pulled from his quiet state by a rush of footsteps and someone saying, “Come on, come on.” Minkyun looks up to find that it is a government officer, apparently just one of many dispatched to deal with the situation.

Minkyun is also just one of many surviving agents being herded out into the late evening to awaiting cars- and awaiting ambulances, for the injured and dead. Minkyun’s mouth is dry.

Once the building is fully cleared, the crowd parts as the official head of the Liberty Organization steps forward, Jo Dongrim. His face is a mask of perfect indifference.

“I have something to say to those of you who are alive, conscious or not,” Dongrim begins, fixing them all with a stern look from behind his glasses. “You have survived something that most would have been destroyed by. You have all shown great bravery and courage, and it is not something to be taken lightly.” Dongrim looks beyond the survivors, to HQ itself. “Song Mino is dead. The so-called Orion Project is over, and was a massive failure. Blu Corp has been shamed, both publically and in the underground, where their influence was strongest. And if they ever threaten us again, they will do so knowing what the outcome will be from the start.”

Minkyun is tired, drained, and wobbly on his feet, but he is filled with something that can only be described as _triumph_. He wants to go home and cry into his pillows but for now, he is proud of himself, of everyone he’s ever worked with, still living or otherwise.

They won.

 

Generally, winners get some kind of rest and reward. Instead, everyone not officially deceased is whisked away to the hospital; if they don’t receive wound treatment, they receive a psych eval. Minkyun receives a few butterfly strips to close a cut on the back of his hand (that he wasn’t even aware of), and then a brief psych eval, and then he is reduced to waiting until he can go back to see Yoosu.

The wait is not long, a nurse informing him that Yoosu has been stabilized, but is not awake. Minkyun lets the nurse lead him back to the room Yoosu is in, sitting in the chair in the corner while she checks Yoosu’s vitals.

“Um, miss…” Minkyun begins, continuing when the nurse hums in response. “What, uh… what- how bad is it?”

The nurse sighs slightly, which Minkyun takes as a bad sign. “He was shot in the shoulder, and it went directly through the joint. There… could be permanent damage, but whether it’s just stiffness and early onset arthritis or complete paralysis, we won’t know for a while yet. Whoever treated him before we did managed to get all the bullet fragments out, however, which is a miracle considering that we usually have to use an arthroscope for stuff like that.”

“But… he’s not going to die, right?”

“Unless something weird happens and an artery is severed or something, no.” The nurse smiles reassuringly. “He’ll recover within a few months, and we can begin therapy for the shoulder if we can. If not…” The nurse offers a one shouldered shrug, then smiles again. “You can stay as long as you like.”

“Thank you,” Minkyun says quietly as the nurse leaves. He watches her go before he scoots the chair over to the side of the bed, watching Yoosu breathe just to make sure he’s okay, that he’s really alive.

There is significantly more color in Yoosu’s cheeks now and the hospital staff wiped him clean of blood, but Minkyun still somehow feels like Yoosu could disappear at any moment. Perhaps it’s warranted, considering the day they’ve all had.

The sun is beginning to rise, dim light coming in through the blinds, and Minkyun realizes just how absolutely exhausted he is. He thinks back to what the nurse said, _stay as long as you want_ , and then carefully moves wires and Yoosu’s undamaged arm so he can lay beside him in bed. It’s uncomfortable, the position a bit awkward, but being close to Yoosu makes Minkyun feel better. Yoosu is home for Minkyun, even if he is a wrecked home currently.

Minkyun relaxes for the first time in what feels like forever, and he sleeps.

 

Time seems to pass much more quickly after that. Agents are discharged from the hospital, there’s quite a large influx of early retirees, and worst of all, funeral proceedings begin.

Minkyun does not make himself go to them because he cannot handle it. The mental strain is too much to bear, seeing people he worked with every day dead in a casket. He wishes he could go just to be supportive, but he can barely get out of bed to go see Yoosu while he’s still recovering.

However, Gunhee still texts him about the funerals, sparing details. Unlike Minkyun, Gunhee is a rock for others, a shoulder to cry on. He can handle seeing people he knows in a coffin. Today, three people Minkyun graduated with were buried: Donghyun, Suwoong, and Yongsun. Minkyun’s heart breaks at every name, and all Gunhee offers beyond names is, “ _a lot of people cried. i feel like shit._ ”

Minkyun replies with nothing more than an apology, and then goes back to sleep.

 

On a day when no other funerals take place is when Siyoung is buried.

Minkyun makes himself to go this one because of everything Siyoung ever did for him. It would be unfair to Siyoung for Minkyun to sit out just because he was afraid of breaking down in public.

The attendance was expected to be staggering, and it is, in the end. It’s held at the cathedral in town because there was no other venue big enough. Minkyun wishes, now, that Yoosu was cleared for discharge, so that he wasn’t alone.

Minkyun barely pays attention to the funeral proceedings and doesn’t join the procession of people coming to look at Siyoung, look at Siyoung’s body. Instead, his watery eyes scan the crowd, spotting people he knows and people he does not. He wonders in the back of his mind where Hunchul is, and then finally spots him sitting in the floor by one of the many floral arrangements gifted to the family (gifted to Hunchul). Hunchul’s head is resting against the coffin.

Minkyun’s sudden burst into tears goes unheard by most everyone, and he is glad. He doesn’t want anyone to offer empty words of encouragement or reassurance about how Siyoung is in a better place, because Minkyun would rather Siyoung still be _here_ , alive, breathing and laughing and drinking his stupid spiked coffee. Not- not dead, not embalmed, not waiting to be buried beneath the earth.

While Minkyun has his head in his hands, someone comes in mighty late and sits beside him. He doesn’t bother to look for a few long minutes, but when he does, he is somewhat surprised to see that it’s Changkyun.

Minkyun tries to will himself to feel something ill towards Changkyun, but all he sees is the same kind of grief he’s feeling reflected in Changkyun’s eyes. Minkyun recalls that Siyoung died so Changkyun didn’t have to. He could consider this Changkyun’s fault, if he wanted to.

“I’m sorry,” Changkyun says, almost too low to hear over the organ playing as the pallbearers take up the coffin and people prepare to leave.

Minkyun stands, takes a deep breath, and says, “It wasn’t your fault.”

Changkyun crumples, turning his head away as the tears fall from his eyes. Minkyun pulls him to his feet and leads him out with the crowd.

At the gravesite, there is such a sense of finality. Minkyun hasn’t been to many funerals in his lifetime, but even if he had, he knows this one is different. This is not the end of a life, but the end of an era, the end of a period in all of the remaining Liberty agents’ lives.

Changkyun splits away from the group early and Minkyun follows him, because he has something to ask.

“Wait, Changkyun,” Minkyun says, and he’s not embarrassed in the slightest at his croaky voice. Changkyun stops short, turning to look at Minkyun, so Minkyun continues. “Where- where are you going to go?”

It seems like Changkyun hasn’t thought much about this, based on the way he hesitates, looking off to the side. “I- I don’t know. I guess… I’ll go back to my father. Blu might be over but… he’s still alive. He called me this morning. He wants to transfer me to another branch of Blu, overseas…”

“Stay,” Minkyun says abruptly. “Stay, and- see if the n-new director will let you join. You can be a real intern.”

“I don’t know if I could do that-”

“Hong Siyoung is dead because he wanted to save your life,” Minkyun interrupts sternly. “The least you could do for him is _try._ ”

Changkyun is silent for what feels like an eternity, and then he nods. “Okay. I will.”

 

Minkyun wants nothing more than to go home and rest after the emotional ordeal, but instead he drives to the hospital to see Yoosu. He’s just in time for lunch and busies himself with eating Yoosu’s flavorless potatoes while Yoosu gives an in-depth commentary on a drama he’s watching.

Yoosu suddenly falls silent, and then says, “This is a lot worse than I’m making it out to be.”

“What, the drama?” Minkyun asks, cheeks full of food.

“No, the- my arm.”

“... Oh.”

“I didn’t want to worry you, but,” Yoosu sets his fork down and puts his hand over his eyes. “I can move my hand a little, but I can’t feel anything. The doctors said it would get worse as time went on and there’s not much they can do for it.” He pauses a moment, then keeps talking before Minkyun can say anything. “But, hey. They said that my wound is healing nicely and that I haven’t gotten an infection, which is great. Small mercies, right?”

Minkyun takes another bite of Yoosu’s food and nods. “Small mercies, indeed. Did they give you an estimate for when you’ll be out?”

“Still four weeks. Then, it’ll be a full six weeks since the attack, and they’ll feel good enough about sending me home.” Yoosu is silent again, gazing at Minkyun. “We’re so lucky.”

“I’m going to retire,” Minkyun says quietly.

“What?”

“I’m going to retire,” Minkyun repeats, setting his own plastic fork down on the tray. “I- I could never handle this job from the beginning, I… seriously thought about it when Jooheon got hurt because I was- I was so afraid that one day it would be _you_ that got hurt instead and… now, I just… I think it’s not worth it.”

“Well, I don’t want to quit, but I’ll be damned if I’m working with anyone that isn’t you.” Yoosu reaches for Minkyun’s hand, twining their fingers together. “I’ll quit with you. We can try to be normal.”

“Normal,” Minkyun echoes, nodding. “Normal.”

Normal is all they can hope for.

 

Liberty gets a new director. Moon Jihoon, transferred from Liberty’s overseas operations in the United States, a man with many accomplishments under his belt and a hearty laugh. He seems competent enough.

Jihoon gathers all the agents present to the front of the room, previously mirthful face turning a bit softer, more somber. “Hello, everyone. I’m honored to be chosen as your new director, but I want to first acknowledge that there is- there’s a hole here that I cannot fill. I’m too fat to fill a hole left by that skinny fucker.”

Laughter rings from the crowd and Jihoon smiles, then. “Siyoung was a good man. He was good at what he did. I hope I can be half as successful as him.” Jihoon bows at the waist, then. “Please, help me to be the best director I can be, for the further success of the Liberty Organization.”

The congregation of employees bow in response. Afterwards, they return to their work and Jihoon retreats upstairs, no doubt to settle into his office.

“What do you think of him?” Gunhee asks from beside Minkyun, sliding over in his desk chair to get closer.

“He seems alright,” Minkyun replies, nodding. “Definitely not the worst we could have had.”

“Right? He’s great. I’ve heard a lot about him, actually, about how he took out that one terrorist group who was on like, six terrorism blacklists.” Gunhee sighs, then, resting his elbow on the corner of Minkyun’s desk. “He’s no Siyoung, though.”

“Definitely no Siyoung,” Minkyun agrees. “Nobody can ever be like Siyoung, like he said.”

“True.”

Minkyun worries his lip between his teeth for a few long moments, then says, “I’m quitting.”

“Huh?”

“Yoosu is too,” Minkyun continues. “It’s- the strain is too much, I’m too scared. Even if we don’t have Blu to contend with anymore, who’s to say that there won’t be copycats? Departments of Blu starting their own organizations just as dangerous? I can’t deal with it.”

Gunhee is silent, mulling over Minkyun’s words. “I get it,” Gunhee says then. “It’s- it’s nothing to be ashamed of. I’m scared too. I just… I feel like I should be here. This is where I belong, this is where Jooheon belongs. And if you and Yoosu think that you don’t belong here anymore, that’s fine. But, keep in touch, yeah?”

“Definitely,” Minkyun says with a watery smile. “Definitely.”

 

The first thing Yoosu does when he gets out of the hospital is waddle over to the stove and begin preparations to make macaroni and cheese.

“Really?” Minkyun asks, following Yoosu to the kitchen. “Don’t you want to lay down and rest?”

“No, I want some goddamn food with salt and artificial orange coloring in it.” Yoosu says firmly, shaking salt into the pot of water he has on the burner. “I’m fucking deprived.”

Minkyun laughs, carefully snaking his arms around Yoosu’s waist and pressing his face into Yoosu’s uninjured shoulder. “Same as always,” Minkyun remarks.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean.”

“That you’re addicted to powdered cheese.”

“I can’t contest the truth.” Yoosu says, trying to open the box with his functional hand. “God dammit. Can you do this?”

“Sure.” Minkyun takes the box from Yoosu and pulls the flaps free. “You’ll… adjust. We’ll adjust.”

“I’m going to cut my fucking arm off and eat it, is what I’m gonna do.”

MInkyun snorts. “Sure you are.”

Same as always, indeed. Minkyun hopes it stays this way for a long, long time.


End file.
